Rockman:Emotion
by Omega Light
Summary: Now updates weekly! The year is 20XX, and the mechanical chess battle between Drs. Light and Wily has reached its climax. Evolution of the robotic world is at hand, but who will be the first to create the new model... the reploid? CHAPTER 14 NOW UP.
1. Introduction

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_Introduction_

About six years ago, I was introduced to the world of Rockman and Rockman X. Fascinated by the stories and its characters, I wove my own "what-if?" tale entitled _Creation and Emotion, _which chronicled the struggles of a girl caught in a robotic war.

This story, _Rockman:Emotion_, is a retelling of those adventures that I first cooked up while daydreaming in my eighth grade reading class. Those of you who read and commented on the last version… I hope that you'll enjoy this "upgrade" just as much.

_Omega Light_


	2. Chapter 1

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(1)

The scenery flew by faster than she could make out the details, but then, her attention was far from focused on it. Realization hadn't truly sunk in yet, and while in search of it her young mind began to wander, countenance distant and thoughtful. Between folded hands was a down-turned, holo-photograph, the edges well-worn from many moments like these.

The driver tossed some words over his shoulder as the small, cramped taxi began to decelerate, but she wasn't listening, nor did she even register her surroundings until the brakes were unceremoniously slammed. Undoubtedly the neighborhood itself had been alerted to their arrival.

"We're here, missy. Light Labs… or somethin'. Don't look like much to me…"

So there it was, the house of a nearly-forgotten childhood. Blue eyes drank it in, the aging white paint, the single visible window from this side… a deceptively normal home, but she alone would know any better. Ignoring the driver for the time being, she stretched a bit from the long ride, closing the distance to a large tree that had become a very good friend those years ago. It actually surprised her to see it, and the sensation was a warm and welcome one.

Sighing as the driver began to bring up her luggage, still prattling on about nothing in particular; she followed him to the door, paid him for his trouble, and knocked quietly. A crash from inside made her jump slightly, the familiar voice that followed bringing swift reassurance.

After a few good minutes, the taxi now long gone, the door opened at last. Funny, she was used to looking up at this man, who now seemed so much smaller after the time that had passed. Indeed, he was also unaccustomed to such a sight, the edges of each eye crinkling joyfully with his smile. He might have been the younger, slimmer brother of Saint Nick in both looks and demeanor, and the girl's uneasiness melted away at last.

"Grandpa."

"Oh, it's so wonderful to see you, my dear! Do come in… though I'm afraid there's quite a mess on the kitchen floor…" True enough, clutter and various mechanical parts were scattered all over the place, and the girl had to grin to herself knowingly as she picked her way around it all. _Some things never change…_

Again she lost herself to memory, its long and winding paths tugging her heart ever further into introspection. Her luggage lay forgotten at her feet; in her mind's eye it didn't even exist.

_There was a small girl darting across the room, hugging a stuffed toy so loved that its features had worn almost completely away. Spindly-limbed, bright-eyed and no more than six years of age, her giggles echoed quietly in here, only barely muffled once she'd crawled beneath a small couch. A man strode calmly after her, looking from side to side from behind clear, angled lenses with feigned puzzlement._

"_Now, where could she be?" he asked, and was answered by even more laughter. Pursing his lips and giving a long 'hmm', he tapped his chin as if to think carefully to oneself. Quite the picture of a scholarly man of science; he had a tall frame in business attire, complete with a pristine-white lab coat that was heavily wrinkled from the memory of use. At last he sighed, shaking his head and crossing his arms._

"_Goodness, I can't find Sierra! Too bad… I had some cookies right here for her, too…" From his pocket he produced, in fact, a bag of small treats of the chocolate chip variation – her favorite._

_From under the couch a small pair of eyes widened, and with a squeal she sprang towards him, hugging his legs tightly. "Daddy, I'm right here! See? I can have the cookies, right? Dad?"_

"Dad?"

Glancing over one shoulder, Sierra's attention suddenly fastened on a boy's silhouette in the doorway. Surely, the voice had been his, but… what did he just say?

Visibly agitated, her grandfather looked between the two nervously. Opening his mouth and promptly closing it, it was apparent that he'd not yet prepared introductions. Soon enough, the girl was sure that she could reach out and touch the tension that was still growing, and quickly grew tired of it.

"I'm… gonna go unpack my things." However, instead of heading further into the house, she retreated towards the front door instead, shutting it loudly behind her.

Dr. Light watched her go mournfully, and at the same time gazed at his "son" from the corner of one eye. Quite a pickle he was in now, it seemed, and the old man wondered if he should have given both of them prior warning.

.o.o.o.

The breeze felt good, and the sound of it tugging playfully at the leaves slowly began to sedate her deep uneasiness. Had it really been so long ago? So much was different, and she deeply wished that she understood it all better. Sierra was no fool; she realized as soon as she set eyes on that boy – for he couldn't have been older than she, if not younger – that there were likely many reasons behind her being sent away.

Through the branches all around her, the sky shattered and cracked all around with sharp and uninviting edges. Thinking about that a bit as both legs kicked aimlessly beneath her perch, she could definitely apply the image to the state of her situation. Only bits and pieces of the truth were within reach. The rest, however, were scattered so far that it would likely never be fully reconstructed. Making a face, she shook her long brown mane, combing a few fingers through the knots here and there. Normally, it would be tied back, but she didn't feel like being stifled any more.

The whistling of the wind increased fractionally, congealing into a tuneless melody she could almost pick out, but the comfortable cushioning that the tree offered muted much of the sensation. Glancing down towards the ground, she gauged the distance, a bit proud of herself for being able to climb this far. Then again, longer arms and legs allowed greater reach when climbing. A moment later she let herself drop, bending her knees with the impact to lessen the shock. Feeling her lower leg scream in protest to such treatment made her grimace slightly; Sierra grinned anyway, wiping the loose plant matter from her faded jeans and black baby-doll top. Her right hand hurt, the palm stained with grass and pricked with assorted bits of pebbles and dirt.

When she looked up again, it was into the rather amused face of a slender youth, both hands shoved into his pockets like he had nothing better to do. She raised an eyebrow, a bit perplexed herself that he didn't appear at all perturbed by a random girl jumping none-too-gracefully from nowhere. Of course, it didn't help that she'd jumped right onto the adjacent sidewalk, more than likely into his walking path.

"You like heights?" he asked, as casually as one would to a friend of many years. At first glance, one might have taken him for the laid-back, play-it-cool type, but something in his stance betrayed tension, as if he were constantly on guard. In retrospect, his smile was completely disarming, not to mention contagious.

"Now and again, it gives a bit of a thrill," she replied with a shrug, still looking herself over a bit.

"Ah." A soft chuckle broke the ice, an affirmation that brought one hand to his eyes to pull off clear, blue-tinted sunglasses. The intensity of the green in his eyes drew her attention back to him completely; she found it enchanting that even the shadows cast by his shock of dark hair didn't dim their brilliance.

The youth cocked his head to one side slightly, smile shifting subtly into more of a smirk. "Quiet type, I take it?"

"Only to strangers."

"Oh, so now I'm strange, then."

"Well, you're certainly different."

"More than you think." He took a step towards her, extending his hand slightly in a friendly manner. Not knowing what to make of his last remark, Sierra remained silent, prompting him to continue. "I take it you're new around here. Don't tell me you live with the old nut." A darted glance to the front door punctuated the assumption.

"As of today, I do."

"Relation?"

"Yeah, grandparent," she answered, and suddenly the face of that younger boy popped up in her mind's eye. "But, I haven't been here for a while."

She must have been frowning, because his expression grew concerned. "I didn't think the coot had any family left. That is, if all the rumors were true."

That caught her attention immediately. "Excuse me?"

"Er…" tensing, he retracted his hand to rub the back of his head nervously. "I'm sorry, that was pretty rude of me."

"No, I mean, what are you talking about?"

"I—" _Beepbeep._ A blue light winked at the pair from somewhere on his wristwatch, sparking recognition on his face. "Damn. Already?" he muttered, taking a moment to slip his glasses back on. "Gotta go. Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Sure," she answered immediately, earning a nod and a smile from him.

"All right then, it's a date." Giving a mockery of a salute he started off at a brisk pace, leaving Sierra to stare blankly at his back until he disappeared around the corner. A call from behind reached her ears, and there at the door stood her grandfather, hands clasped behind his back while he shifted from foot to foot in an anxious gesture.

She very much wanted to ignore his beckon, a childish part of her hissing that it didn't want excuses or an explanation… but the truth had its strange allure, and the youth had summoned a spell of curiosity within her young mind. Yes, she wanted answers, and would listen.

.o.o.o.

It didn't feel right to be sitting down, particularly when that strange boy was fidgeting in the seat directly across from hers. The discomfort quickly became tangible again, and finally both pairs of eyes fell on Dr. Light, who stared at both of them in turn while searching for his words.

"Dad, um…" there it was, that word again, and the embers of that previous anger sparked to life again, and despite herself Sierra's expression darkened.

"Rock, please…" the aging scientist began, only to trail off in further pause. Only in a stumbling manner could his thoughts return; nonetheless they remained without courage in front of a furious twenty-two-year-old.

"I… honestly don't know where to begin, my dear. There is so much you will likely never understand…"

"Who is he?" she asked curtly, inclining her head in the boy's direction.

Light recoiled slightly, although he obviously expected such a question. "Well, that's a complicated thing…" he gave a tug of his beard, then again, staring intently at the boy now. "But perhaps the simplest heart of the matter..." More muttering, followed by a heavy sigh. "Rock, could you show her…"

Perking up, Rock snapped to attention, setting his arm on the table and poking several points on his skin. He wasn't done; his expression completely stoic now (certainly a far cry from previous expressions, in that now he appeared to be much older) he grasped a good portion of his arm _and folded it to one side._

Circuits and wiring ducked and darted around colorful paneling, status lights blinked in and out without pattern. Small hoses, in a denser population than the rest, pumped a dark fluid back and forth in a terrifying imitation of human blood vessels.

"He's unique, and one of his kind," Light explained, while Sierra gawked at the machinery with shock and fascination, only half-listening. "Indeed, a nearly perfect simulacrum of the human body, but completely synthetic."

_He seems so real,_ she thought, peering to look closer at it. Rock began to fidget a bit again, glancing away almost in embarrassment from the scrutiny.

"But he _is_ real," the scientist scolded lightly, informing her that she had, in fact, spoken those words aloud. "The matrices of his brain are identical to ours, and over time he's developed a personality, and I daresay a life of his own, wouldn't you agree, Rock?"

"…yes, sir."

Gingerly Sierra reached forward to touch the paneling of the outside of Rock's arm, flipping it closed once more. The flesh around the seam congealed around it instantly, rapidly healing the small scar that once marked its existence. More and more things were making sense again, and she felt silly for thinking so disrespectfully of her older kin. Catching Rock's eye, she gave him an unsteady smile, offering silent apology for her jealousy. The room itself brightened with him when he boyishly returned the gesture – the beginning of a truce.

Even Dr. Light relaxed now, seeing that his children, flesh and otherwise, were no longer at odds. "Now, I'm sure you're both wondering why you haven't been introduced much sooner." Aware that more of the story had yet to unravel, the pair's focus returned to him. "You know, Sierra, Rock could not exist without the help of your father."

"Huh? Dad did robotics, too?"

"Goodness, no! In terms of mechanics he was completely useless." He laughed then, placing a hand on her shoulder. "No, no, your father was actually…"

.o.o.o.

_Notes: Well, here's the first chapter. It was difficult to restart this story from scratch, and it's taking a different direction than I planned. Please let me know what you think!_


	3. Chapter 2

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(2)

"Your father was, in fact, an incredible programmer. Experimentations with AI – artificial intelligence – fascinated him, and together he and I worked to create a perfect machine that would be indistinguishable from a true human being.

"Our first attempt in creating a body had many flaws, and in the end we lost the prototype. Though regrettable, it allowed us to start from scratch and take things into a different direction. After some time he made significant advances on a personality program…" here Dr. Light trailed off, his expression betraying the distance his mind had receded to. "In the end, even that was lost. I've spent years trying to recreate what your father had discovered, and to this day its secret remains out of my reach."

Sierra stared up at him sadly, taking the time to let it all sink in. She'd never really known what her father had always worked on; he and her grandfather were the only family she had ever known. _After what happened…_ her eyes widened at that.

"Grandpa, did any of that have something to do with… how he died?"

Silence. Suddenly the girl regretted her question, biting her lip and dropping her gaze, not expecting a reply.

"It… I suppose it's possible," the scientist finally answered. "The successes of our work made us many enemies, but there's really no way to be sure. I'm only eternally grateful that I didn't lose you that night, too." His hand shook from where it sat on her shoulder, and eventually he removed it, retreating slightly. "I understood at that point that it would probably not be safe here anymore for you, Sierra, and so I had little choice but to send you somewhere secure. I admit, too, that I had no idea how to raise a little girl… I hope you'll forgive me for that."

"Grandpa…" For so long there was the doubt, the confusion surrounding everything, and she was sure that from the day she left, there was no going back. Yet, here she was, slowly breaking down that wall of fifteen years' separation. No contact, no idea whether or not she still had a family…? Those were things that had haunted her even now. Even so…

"Of course I forgive you." Yes, despite her doubts and fears, the girl found it within herself to let go. How could she not? It had been the greatest shock to hear from her grandfather again, and now the truth had come out at last, and she was home again. Healing began with forgiveness, right?

"And, I'm sorry, to both you and Rock, for everything."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together and smiling broadly. "Now, how about some dinner?"

"Hooray!" the boy – for Rock was much more so than a simple robot – exclaimed, piping up at last and throwing his arms up happily. "Dad, I want ramen!"

.o.o.o.

In actuality, dinner (at Sierra's insistence) consisted of a more realistic combination; her cooking skills, while extremely limited, managed to whip up a decent batch of steamed veggies on rice, followed by some ice cream that she'd found at the back of the freezer. Dr. Light, of course, declined from the latter with a pat to his stomach, stating that at his age, it probably wouldn't do much for his "figure".

Things wound down rather late in the evening, with Rock trotting off to play videogames in his room, and Dr. Light going back to work. Sierra, for lack of anything better to do, grabbed a book and cleared away some of the clutter on the couch so she could curl up comfortably.

Some time later she was awakened by a strange crash, though she couldn't remember falling asleep in the first place. More strange sounds came from outside, and the girl tiptoed over towards a window out of curiosity. Much to her surprise, two darkened silhouettes prowled the yard suspiciously, one of them pointing constantly at the far side of the house. The other stood a bit further back, more interested in observing rather than making any noise.

"Sierra?" Rock poked his head out from his room, face betraying alarm. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," she admitted, glancing back outside. "There's someone out there, I can't make out any features."

"Huh?" coming up behind her, he stood on tiptoe to look over her shoulder. "…!"

"What is it? Do you know them?" There was no mistaking that sound of recognition, but Rock grasped her wrist firmly, pulling her backwards.

"Hey, go to my room and lock the door behind you, okay? Don't come out until I get back."

"Rock? Let go! Tell me who they are!"

"No time! Just go!" Surprised to receive such urgency in the command, she took the hint and obeyed reluctantly, locking the safety latch and staring at the door, as if hoping to see beyond it.

_What had Rock been so afraid of?_ she wondered. She crossed her arms, only to jump in horror at the sound of weapons' fire. "Energy bullets? I thought only the military used those!"

"That's what they want you to think."

There was no chance to turn around before she was grabbed, a hand clamping firmly over her mouth as the voice continued to murmur in her ear.

"No sounds. We don't want any needless violence." His grip on her was strong, almost unnaturally so, and it hit her that it was the same feeling as when Rock had grasped her arm only a moment ago. _Another robot?_ She strained to see, but could only make out that he was wearing gloves… red gloves, with some sort of armor on each forearm, and his face mostly covered by a matching helmet.

"Don't wanna do this, but it's better if you'll cooperate. Now stay quiet." His hand loosened, and Sierra fought the instinct to bite down on his fingers; it wouldn't do any good.

"Who are you?" she asked instead, glaring daggers as best she could at him. "What do you want with me?"

"It really has little to do with me."

"…!" Just then a large explosion rocked the house all the way through the foundations, and her captor replaced his hand on her mouth to mute her scream. Panic shot through her, and she thrashed desperately, wanting to find Rock and her grandfather and get out of here!

"Stop it!" he growled, shaking her roughly and tightening his grip until it began to hurt. Having no other choice she fell limp, slumping in defeat. Another quake nearly knocked them both off their feet, and Sierra could make out a strangled yell from somewhere outside.

"That idiot," the robot was muttering, cursing under his breath. "Time to go, then."

It was her chance, and probably the last one; in a last-ditch effort she screamed as loud as she could, hoping that _someone_ could hear her, no matter how unlikely such a slim hope could be. Caught off-guard, her captor let go, and she turned around to look. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, and the last thing she saw was a red blur connect with the side of her face.

The last thing she heard, however, was Rock breaking down the door, and calling her name.

.o.o.o.

"_Daddy? Can we go to the park today?" the little girl clung to her father's leg, staring up at him pleadingly. The man sighed, adjusting his glasses slightly before continuing to type. Much as she tried, she wasn't tall enough to look over the desk at what he was working on._

"_I'm sorry Sierra, I have to finish this. We'll go in a little while, all right?"_

"_But Daddy, you said that yesterday!" she pouted, hurt as she tugged on his pant leg. "Please?"_

_Finally he took the opportunity to look down at her, regretting that he had let her down. The look on her face broke his heart, and he gave her his biggest smile while pulling her into his lap. "How about this… give me an hour more to work, and I'll not only take you to the park, but I'll get you some ice cream, too. How's that sound?"_

_Small blue eyes went wide as saucers, her jaw dropping open. "Ice cream! Really, Daddy!"_

"_Yup. I promise. One hour. Can you be patient for me for that long?"_

"_Can I push this button if you don't?" She pointed to the red button she was told _never_ to touch, the one that said RESET in large type above it. Her father winced playfully._

"_Oh, goodness. You're a tough little negotiator, aren't you?"_

"_Neh-goh-shay-ter?" the word sounded funny, and she giggled after trying to say it. Soon both were laughing, and he finally set her down on her feet, ruffling the chestnut hair that so perfectly matched his own._

"_One hour," he reaffirmed, looking her straight in the eye._

"_Promise?"_

"_Promise."_

.o.o.o.

Sitting up sharply, she instantly regretted doing so, cradling her throbbing head in one hand. Her vision swam, making her dizzy, and a larger shape to one side shifted, pushing her back against the cushions.

…Cushions?

The memories flew back with painful speed, and Sierra blinked a few times, trying to make out the silhouette next to her. Near-black hair, worried blue eyes…

"Rock?" she asked with effort, her mouth dry.

He seemed to relax. "Wow, you gave us a bit of a scare, Sierra! Are you all right?"

"My face hurts."

"Well, you took a good hit before; you've been out for a couple of days. Do you remember what happened at all?" Whatever mirth he had displayed before vanished, replaced with an almost cold severity.

"Not really. I locked the door, some guy grabbed me, and I heard all the stuff going on outside… what in the world _was_ that, anyway?"

"Um…" scratching his head, he dropped his gaze, unsure. "I think that's gonna have to wait. It's a bit hard to explain."

"Hard to explain?" she frowned. "Are you and Grandpa keeping something from me?"

"No, it's not that! Dad – I mean, Dr. Light – we were just trying to protect you!"

"From what? You _are_ hiding something!"

"Only because I asked him to keep quiet, my dear." The door opened, and in stepped Dr. Light, who shared Rock's serious façade. "I did not want to worry you about things… it appears, now, that that was a mistake." He pulled up a chair and took a seat. "Some of my work has attracted unwanted attention, particularly those of the common thief. What happened two nights ago was a result of a simple attempted burglary."

"But I heard weapons going off!"

The scientist shook his head. "That was simply our defense system – they're set to stun, don't worry. We took care of them, and it's not likely they'll be back for a good long time."

"That can't be right! The guy that tried to kidnap me –"

"Was simply trying to use you for ransom, I'd guess," he interjected quietly. "No more than that."

"Grandpa, he was a robot!"

"Impossible."

"I mean it!" she turned to Rock, who had fallen silent, gaze still lingering towards the floor. "Tell him! You saw who it was, didn't you?"

"Um… I… didn't see anything, actually," the boy murmured, the words barely audible. "When I got there, he had disappeared, and you'd collapsed."

"As I said, common thieves, Sierra." The old man sat back in his chair, thinking. "We'll continue this later. For now, I must return to my work. I ask that you don't wander off too far, my dear, all right?"

"…"

"Please, Sierra, it's for your safety."

"…all right." Still not quite satisfied, she gave up her interrogation for the time being, watching blankly as both her caretakers left the room in silence. Alone now, her gaze shifted to regard her surroundings; a simple, square room of blank, white walls and a single window. The only furniture included a bed and dresser, and a desk in one corner. Atop the desk sat a large cardboard box, unmarked and barely shut, the flaps sloppily folded over. Curious, she climbed out of bed, stopped to compensate for a rush of vertigo, and began to inspect it. It nearly popped open with a touch; she stared down at the contents for a long time, as if not believing they were there at all.

At the top was a holographic photo; an exact replica of the very one she had in her possession, in fact. The faces of her younger self and her father smiled up at her, frozen in time as well as the distant past. _Fifteen years._

They'd never made it to the park that day. She'd paced her playroom, looking up at the clock every few seconds to see if the big hand was pointing straight up yet. Actually, her hope was that he'd forget, so that she could sneak in and push the big red button on his computer, just to see what it did. In a little girl's mind, that's exactly what big red buttons were for, after all. There was a knock on the door, and she had run to get it. Someone tall was there, and he asked her where Daddy was… _Don't bother him,_ she'd said firmly, _he's busy right now. He's taking me to the park first._

That was all she could recall until much later, when the hospitals had revived her and told her about the fire. Everything was lost, they said, and she was lucky to be alive.

And Sierra gazed further down into the box, tears springing into her eyes as a big red button, with the word RESET in large type above it, stared back up at her like a hopeful, watchful crimson eye. She discovered, with further inspection, that most of the computer was still intact, but various parts were missing, and there was no longer a monitor. Picking up a piece, she held it close, as if doing so brought her closer to everything that had been torn from her that day.

Rapping on the window brought her attention back to the present, and she froze, filled with fear. A pause, then the tapping continued, making her jump. Finally, whoever, or whatever it was decided to give up, deciding to look inside instead. Sierra let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, relieved to see that it was the face of the young man from yesterday – no, three days ago now.

"Oh no! I was supposed to meet him!" she said aloud, rushing over to open the window. "I'm so sorry!"

He smirked, though it faded as he noticed the rather large bruise on her cheek. "Damn, what happened?"

"Long story."

"I bet… looks nasty. You all right?" He raised a hand to touch it, but she pulled back a bit instinctively.

"Sorry… um, yeah, I'm okay now. Just some burglar that broke in a couple of days ago. We got rid of him."

"Burglar? What random joe doesn't know better than to rob this place?"

She stared at him in puzzlement. He stared right back, slack-jawed.

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Whew," the youth whistled in disbelief, making a face. "There's some really bad eggs going after old Doc Light right now. All over the news and everything. I guess you could call it a technology war."

"You've got to be kidding."

"No, I'm not." He glanced over the blue-tinted shades at her, taking a long, slow breath. "You want to know what's really going on around here?"

"Pfft. What could someone like you know?"

"A lot more than you think I do." A few black bangs tumbled over his face, adding strange shadows to it. For some reason, Sierra felt compelled to believe him, but remained suspicious.

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Ouch. Hey, I'm trying to help you out here, and this is what I get? The third-degree?"

Realizing the venom in her words, the girl's head drooped, crestfallen. "I'm sorry, everything's just been strange ever since I got here."

"I can imagine. After the mess the other day, I'm not surprised the old coot wants to lock you up."

"I'm not locked up!"

"Check the door."

She did, and found it bolted from the outside. Her eyes shot back to meet his, and he smirked mirthlessly. "What'd I tell you? Come on, let's get out of here, okay?"

"…"

"Hey, trust me. I'll bring you back in one piece and everything, I promise."

A glance at the door, then back at the youth, and towards the door again, where it lingered; at last, with a slight sniff of anger, she climbed out of the small window to join him.

"You sure this is okay?" he asked, giving her a hand up.

"You're asking me this now?"

"Well, I figured I'd get it out of the way, just to say I had." Both grinned, and Sierra followed as he lead her away from the house.

.o.o.o.

_Notes:_ _Finished this chapter pretty quickly, although I'm still trying to get the hang of the style. I hope things aren't too confusing at this point – more will be explained soon! Let me know what you think!_

_Omega Light_


	4. Chapter 3

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(3)

Sometime later, Sierra began to recognize some of the buildings and businesses she'd barely glimpsed from the small taxi's window only a few days before, and again her eyes flicked sideways to her companion, who had fallen silent a little while ago. He seemed so serious now, his jaw set firmly and green eyes still hinting at some inner blaze that tugged at her curiosity.

"So…" she paused when those eyes fell on her. "Do… you happen to know my grandfather at all?"

"I've met him on occasion; he's a pretty big cheese around here. Famous, rich, everything like that… all the action seems to keep him in the news."

"Really? I never heard anything about him…"

"Mm. Usually doesn't make it far past the local stations, since the government often gets involved."

"Wha—?" she stopped in her tracks, bells ringing in warning tones in the back of her mind. "How in the world could you know things like that?"

"…" He shook his head, turning it to one side. "Does it really matter in the end? Don't you want to know the truth?"

Sierra thought about that for a long time, tensing as the confusion and suspicion rose like a wave within her. Most certainly, something was off about the whole thing, with this youth inexplicably tied to it. _Come to think of it…_

"…I don't even know your name," she finished aloud, and that brought his attention back to her. A small smirk whispered over his features as he stepped considerably closer, so that he could look down at her.

"You don't trust me." Before she could answer he placed a finger on her lips. "You see, Sierra, there's this line between us, something neither can cross. Let me put it this way – if I told you my name, and who I am, the game's up, and you're left in the dark until your dear Doc Light decides to throw you a bone. Is that what you want?"

"…No."

"Good. I prefer it this way."

It took her a good minute to muster the courage to speak again. "Then, what should I call you?"

"'Hey, you' works just fine with me." He'd begun walking again, ducking into a dark alleyway. She heard a few strange sounds, and realized that she'd been hearing them for a while, but never registered them above the din of a normal city at nighttime. They grew steadily louder, until the girl grabbed for his arm lightly.

"We're not going towards… _that_… are we?"

He merely shook her off, continuing with a nod. Agitated with his refusal to answer any of her questions, yet anxious as the sounds – which she now recognized to be small explosions – drew them nearer, she instinctively moved closer to her companion, who was more than likely her only protection. Although, it was relatively unlikely that he'd do any good against… whatever-it-was out there.

At a random point in their trek he stopped, glancing around the corner into the lighted street. Shadows lingered heavily over them, mostly obscuring them from view. Motioning for her to come forward, Sierra crept up beside him, gazing over his shoulder at the smoking carnage that was once a busy intersection.

Perhaps her only reassurance was that it was far too late for anyone to be driving, but the empty, though overturned cars and fallen streetlamps forced her stomach into painful knots. For the first few seconds that was all she could see, until at last a pair of silhouettes materialized on opposite sides of the road.

"That's one of the ones that attacked us!" she pointed to one, however the youth at her side only grunted, making a face. Her attention shifted to the other, searching for recognizable features once more. Surprisingly, she found none. More smoke cleared, and bright blue armor glinted in the flickering light of the streetlamps; it wasn't the red robot that had momentarily captured her, but the height and build of this one didn't even match the second shadow she'd first seen in the yard.

"Watch closely," he muttered at last, brushing raven bangs from his face.

Transfixed, Sierra did so, looking from one to the other with intense scrutiny. The first – the one she recognized – wore black armor, with a helmet in a shape that reminded her of a deadly cobra. Fierce, glowing eyes lined with violet stripes down to his chin screamed violence and danger. One of his arms had been replaced by a powerful cannon – could it be?

Yes. When he fired, it affirmed her fears – the cannon lit up and released a bolt of concentrated heat and light: an energy buster. The blue-suited one dodged quickly out of the way, and the bolt stuck the brick walls of a nearby building instead.

"So… it wasn't the defense system…"

"Actually, he was half-right," he muttered, almost too quietly to be heard over the ensuing explosion. "Blue Boy over there _is_ the defense system."

"What?"

"Watch," he hissed.

Finally deciding to retaliate, the battle's defender crouched down, grasping one arm by the armored wrist as if wounded. However, his hand was _sucked back into his arm_, and replaced by a matching energy buster. "I hate to have to do this, Forte!"

"Shut up and fight already!" the black one – Forte – yelled back with a snarl, clenching his one remaining fist. "I've been waiting for you to get serious, Rockman!"

_Rockman._

_Rock…man…_

Seeing the facts dawn on her, the youth watched her expression turn from confusion to pure horror, and the color drain from her face.

"No… no way…" there was no mistaking it; even without recognizing him in the armor, she knew that nothing else could explain it. She whirled on the boy at her side, furious.

"They lied to me!" she yelled, pointing at the continuing battle. "They're hiding all of this from me! Why? Tell me!"

"To protect you." The statement was cold, but in all its truth it still froze her blood to hear. "Knowledge is power. It's what drives them to corruption. Neither of those two are innocent, and both are wrong. This is all just a power struggle, where the best design wins, and you here see the pawns in front of you. Constant destruction, and reconstruction… it never ends. The cycle has to break."

"I have nothing to do with this…"

"Somehow, you fit into the scheme," he pointed out, "or they wouldn't be fighting over you now."

She stared at him now, scared witless and shaking uncontrollably where she stood. This was all too much… she could barely comprehend one thing before another hit her, overwhelming her in a tide of bewilderment.

"I… I can't watch this anymore."

"Can't handle it, can you? The stupidity of it?"

_Crack!_ She slapped him with all her might, letting out the fury that had been festering inside. Surprised at the sudden action, he was nearly knocked over, and Sierra's hand stung painfully. She nearly regretted doing so upon watching the welt form, a splash of red on his pale face.

"Nn," he grimaced slightly, gingerly poking the wound but never losing his eye-to-eye gaze with her. "I'm wondering if I deserved that." And then, suddenly, he had her arm in a viselike grip. Sierra reeled, panicking from the fact that she hadn't even seen him move. A second later she was pulled to one side, just as the wall where she'd been standing shattered from an energy blast.

"…!" About to scream, the girl was silenced by his other hand covering her mouth, muting the cry. His eyes had narrowed behind the shades, and just as swiftly he let her go, waving her away.

"Get out of here, he's coming!"

"But what can you—?"

"Just _go!_ I'll hold both of them off… get back to the house!"

With no strength of will left to argue, Sierra clambered back to her feet, and turned tail. She ran as fast as her legs could go, despite their angry wobbling of betrayal from such abuse. Not even looking back, the image of a blue-armored Rock seared and branded permanently into her brain. Her anger returned full-force, giving a much-needed second wind that brought her closer yet to the home of her grandfather.

.o.o.o.

After what felt like hours of running, the girl stopped to catch her breath. One hand flew to her chest, as if to try and slow her fluttering heart. Her mind whirled, still pumped full of adrenaline and worry over her situation. Even now the house evaded her sight; just how far did Dr. Light live from the city itself?

Sierra felt like a mouse, but unlike the much smaller animal realized that the cats were there, waiting. Where could she run, now? The thought struck her that she could go back to her school, regain the life that she'd made there.

"No," she muttered bitterly, aloud, "I'd only bring the trouble with me."

There was little use in running, though she hated to admit it. Ever since she was little the instinct to run away had been there, and the only safety had been in her father's arms. _But he's gone now…_

Obviously, there was little safety to speak of at her grandfather's home. After all, how successful had he and Rock been at protecting her so far?

"I have to know the truth." It was a promise to herself more than anything. She blinked away the tears that stung her eyes in anger; there would be no more of those, either. Darker thoughts moved back to the youth that had shown her a piece of the puzzle, and even more importantly, that she couldn't go about this alone. This world she'd been thrown into was far too big to try and understand on her own. And with that in mind, she began her trek once again, resolute.

.o.o.o.

_Notes: Special thanks goes to MagnetLord for his inspiring review – I know I tend to go a bit overboard with descriptions and synonyms sometimes, but an outside reminder certainly helps! I hope I've done better here! Thanks a lot – this chapter's dedicated to you _


	5. Chapter 4

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(4)

It had been disturbingly easy to sneak back into the house. No one had even noticed her absence, and she checked the door again upon returning: still locked. Never one to sit idly by and wait, Sierra first paced her room for some time. There seemed to be some commotion going on outside, Dr. Light's and Rock's voices bantering back and forth with some amount of background noise, but she couldn't make anything out.

The girl then glanced around in search of something to take her mind off of things, and her attention fell to the half-opened box she'd discovered earlier. Biting her lip, she moved to inspect its contents again. She removed each piece gingerly, laying them all out across the floor around the cracked tower and casing. And then, she began her work.

.o.o.o.

When the door opened she hardly noticed, tinkering with several of the various parts spread out around her. Sierra herself had sprawled out over an emptier area, once in a while glancing beneath her bed. Apparently, every part of the house had been used for storage of some sort, and it had been her luck that a small toolkit had been stashed there; screwdrivers, hammers, screws and pliers now lay around in the mess haphazardly.

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and only momentarily did she glance up, giving a nod at her grandfather. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, watching her work with a strange intensity to his stare.

"I see you have some technical experience."

Sierra laughed, somehow knowing that the question was due. "In this day and age, it's required that we learn at least the basics of computer repair. I took a course or two."

"Mm. I see." Though nodding, he still frowned, piquing her curiosity.

"Something wrong?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all… simply surprised."

"Grandfather?" Looking up at last, she wiped her hands on her jeans and tossed her mop of brown hair behind her. "Can I ask you something?"

He tilted his head to one side, raising a bushy eyebrow. "Why of course, my dear! You can ask me anything."

"Ah. Well… it's kind of a strange question."

"Go right ahead," he encouraged, finally giving a small smile.

She considered for a moment, then sighed and spat it out. "Why was Rock created?"

The old scientist gave a bit of a jolt in surprise. "Well, that is… I mean, he was a continuation of your father's work… I needed another prototype…"

"That can't be true," she objected, furrowing her eyebrows. "If it were so impersonal, then why would you let him call you 'Dad'?"

"He's a human simulacrum. I tried to provide an environment that was as close to a family situation as… well, humanly possible."

"But that can't be all there is to it!"

"What on earth do you mean, Sierra?" confused now, his tone bordered on being cross.

"You said that dad's work earned a lot of enemies… what would happen if they happened to come along? How would you defend all of this? Couldn't Rock be used to—"

"That's quite enough!" he snapped, then covered his mouth quickly, shutting his eyes in shame. "I… am sorry, my dear. The memory of my son… your father… is still fresh in this old man's mind. Please forgive me."

At that moment, the girl found that she had nothing to say, instead gazing up at him with a blank expression. A sort of recognition began to fill her… that this maze of deceit stretched much further than ever. She turned back to her work.

Almost immediately after she heard the door softly shut, and the silence thereafter gave her some comfort. He hadn't locked the door.

.o.o.o.

The repairs went slowly, as many of the parts were older than she was. Nonetheless the girl refused to give up, focusing on another section when one frustrated her. She needed better supplies, and more advanced tools than she had.

A glance at the clock informed her that it was quite late in the evening… or rather, early in the morning. Despite herself she yawned, sitting up to stretch out. Finding that it was more fatigue than actual sleepiness, she ventured over to her door and opened it a crack. The house was silent, the other occupants likely asleep at that hour. Which put things in her favor; she could rummage around for spare parts undisturbed, if she stayed quiet.

Her search began in the living room, where she recovered an old processor and keyboard, and ended up the main lab. A step through the doorway gave her pause. The room was covered in computers, some still on and humming as their displays flipped from screen to screen. She couldn't understand half the data they were trying to communicate, but a set of half-covered schematics just beyond them caught her eye.

Various notes in nearly illegible handwriting covered the paper's surface, along with sketches of hardware and mechanical parts. Before she could inspect them further, a sudden clatter of equipment in the next room shattered the silence. Sierra froze, clutching the pieces in her hands so tightly that they began to shake. A muffled curse spurred her back to action: it was neither her grandfather nor Rock. The lab had only one entrance, leaving her trapped inside as heavy footfalls tapped against the tile floors. Desperate, she dove beneath one of the workbenches, flattening herself against the adjacent wall as much as possible.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._ The steps had been keeping a slow, steady tempo, as if waiting to be discovered. However, much to Sierra's dismay, the previous noise had done nothing to alert anyone else in the house. She had the inclination to scream, but who knew what kind of person this was?

Her question was answered instantly as the intruder halted a few feet from her hiding place, black-armored boots seeming to suck the minimal light into their depths. Breathless moments passed, and they took another step, then reconsidered, backtracking around and between the randomly-placed tables and equipment.

"…least the bastard can do is tell me what to look for…" he began muttering, and Sierra swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes. With all her might she tried to wish him away, out of the house, away from her, but as if stubbornly he stayed, continuing his predator's stalk through the lab.

He stopped again in front of her, and she tried to crawl further back, halting when he turned towards the bench itself. "What's this…" Papers shuffled above her head, loose nuts and bolts went flying, and then stopped.

"Dammit! There's nothing here!" he hissed, slamming the top of the bench with a fist, forcing a squeak from her mouth. Covering it immediately, her blue eyes widened to the fullest as the intruder – _Forte, his name had been Forte_ – stopped, and then with catlike grace dropped down to his knees. Glowing golden optics stared right through her, and his mouth curled into a chilling grin.

"Well well well… what have we here, hmm? Not quite a watchdog… more like a mouse. Or even better: a nasty spying rat!"

Gulping, the girl mustered whatever courage she had left to stare right back at him, refusing to speak.

"You must be the old fool's grandkid, the one _he's_ been talkin' so much about…" he continued, as if considering. "Come outta there, sweetheart." Punctuating the command, his hand slid back into the armguard, allowing the buster cannon to threateningly take its place.

Sierra didn't budge.

Narrowing his eyes, Forte let the cannon hum to life, a glow emanating from the inside. "I'm not gonna ask again, girl. Get out."

"You won't lay a hand on me."

"HA! Who's gonna stop me, huh?"

"You won't hurt me," she repeated, tensing. "There's no way you'll find what you're looking for, if you do."

At that he growled, pulling her forcibly out from under the bench by the throat and glaring at her struggling form. Sierra fought to breathe, gritting her teeth in pain as his grip tightened.

"Orders or not, I can still kill you here and now…"

She stared with blurred vision down the barrel of his weapon, still trying to force his hand open. "Let… go…!"

"Oh, I don't think so. Something tells me you're a lot more valuable to the Docs than either of them let on, and that's a pretty handy thing for me to know."

A brief thought hit her – more than one doctor? She tried to convey the question, to no avail.

"Yeah… this works out pretty well!" Forte grinned gleefully then, looking much like a maniac in a knife shop. "Guess what, sweetheart! You're my ticket to revenge!"

"Not quite." Unexpectedly Forte's eyes went dark, his face a mask of dumbfounded shock as he dropped as heavily as a sack of bricks, letting Sierra go. Coughing and doubled over, she was unable to stop when a new shadow fell over her. The voice had been all too familiar, and she got the feeling she'd jumped from the frying pan straight into the fire.

Red swam across her vision, and she knew it wasn't the afterimage of Forte's glowing weapon. The figure stooped down, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off, falling backwards and swatting at him with a glare. "S-stay… away from me!"

Thankfully, he didn't move. It led to a rather uncomfortable staring contest – more so for Sierra, who couldn't see past a darkened visor over the robot's eyes.

"Actually, I was expecting a thank-you," he piped up quietly, holding up a small remote for her to see. "He was getting out of hand."

Silence. He sighed.

"All right, yeah, I understand, you have no reason to trust me."

Curt nod.

"Believe me or not, Sierra, but I'm more of a friend than you think."

Her eyes narrowed, not believing a word of it.

"Look… I wish I could do more, but there's no time." In a single, fluid motion he got to his feet and slung Forte over his shoulder, grunting a bit at his weight. "Forget this happened, and don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Why should I?" she spat hoarsely. "You'll just come back and do it again!"

"I won't." And with that he stepped back, pressing a button on his wrist. A red glow surrounded the pair of robots, growing brighter and brighter until the beam of light condensed, and disappeared into the ceiling, leaving harmless crimson sparks in its wake.

Sierra stared upwards, once again at a loss for comprehension. Dizziness overcame her, and with a groan, decided that sleep sounded like a _really_ good idea at the moment, since nothing made sense anymore. Not that they would in the morning, most likely; at least her head would be clearer, perhaps. The retreat to her room took only seconds, and the girl was unconscious just as her head hit the pillows.

.o.o.o.

_Notes: A bit more of an introduction to Forte… though personally, I'm not sure he really needs one. He's Forte, after all. Anyway, sorry this one's so late, classes this semester are pretty tough. _

_Next Chapter: "A Day Out"… A light-hearted interlude as Sierra begins to understand her new family._


	6. Chapter 5

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(5)

"Sierra!"

Blearily she sat up, readjusting her clothes. Pausing, she suddenly looked down at them carefully; she'd been wearing the same outfit for a couple of days, now.

"Sierra!" the voice called again – Rock. "Breakfast is in the kitchen, okay?" He poked his head in, giving her a bright smile. "Wow, you look tired."

"It was a long night," she admitted, glancing over at the still-unfinished computer. He followed her gaze, giving a small whistle.

"Wow, it looks great so far! Can I see it?"

"Sure thing."

He walked over, plopping down onto the floor to inspect the tower, taking an inventory of all that was there, and what had yet to be replaced. "Some of these pieces are really messed up," he pointed out, tugging at some of the wires. "Like they were burned in a fi—" he stopped short, sheepishly poking the computer some more. "Sorry… didn't realize…"

"It's okay," she assured, waving it off with a shake of her head. "And, I figured I'd go and buy some new parts anyway… do you want to go?" It was a peace offering of sorts, and the girl figured that no one would willingly let her go outside of the house by herself.

"Hmm…" his face twisted in indecision, making her laugh.

"Okay, how about this? I'll even buy you ice cream."

It was truly awe-inspiring, that a machine could imitate a child's expressions so fluidly, so flawlessly; both Rock's eyes widened, happily twinkling blue. "Really! Can I get a double-dip?"

She laughed again, crossing her arms. "You can even get a triple, if you wanted. Now get out of here, I need to get dressed."

Not needing to be asked twice, Sierra was soon alone, and took a quick shower before donning a baby-blue tank and jeans. Rock knocked on the door again once she'd finished braiding still-damp hair, still all smiles.

"Look! Dad even gave us some money!"

"That's great! Shall we get going, then?"

"Yup!"

.o.o.o.

Although she already felt refreshed, being outside again really boosted Sierra's spirits as she walked through the city's main plaza with Rock. Even the incident with Forte was forgotten for now, in light of her feminine instinct to shop, haggle and search for sales. It was hard to resist the urge to raid the clothing stores – she had to save that excuse for another trip. Instead her eyes wandered over the displays of the hardware and computer supply shops, every now and then glancing at a checklist of what she needed.

Already one arm carried a small bag of groceries, along with a data disk of assorted recipes; she wasn't going to live on ramen and blueberry waffles for the next few years, after all! Rock could certainly make do, but Sierra knew from early on to appreciate her meat and veggies.

They passed a much larger shop that sported a row of television screens displaying the news, and a large crowd of people had begun to crowd around the windows, murmuring amongst themselves. Her interest piqued, Sierra headed over, but couldn't seem to get a glimpse of what they saw.

"Explosion… so horrible!" one woman cried, shaking her head.

"At a place like that… to stoop so low…!" a man barked in anger with fists clenched. The girl tried to push her way closer, then felt Rock's iron grip clamp down on her arm, forcing her to turn around. She looked over her shoulder, surprised; but he was smiling, pointing to a store across the street.

"Let's go this way… Dad goes there a lot."

She made a face, trying one last time to see what all the fuss was about. Unfortunately her companion was increasingly insistent, so she had no choice but to follow. "Auto's All-Supply" was the name of the smaller niche they now entered, the door painted with a silly caricature of a stocky green robot with swirling red optics.

She did not expect, however, to be greeted by the caricature upon arrival, nor that this robot actually stood six feet tall and nearly just as wide.

"Rock!" he bellowed warmly, the floor quaking in time with the _clankclank_ of huge mechanical feet as he strode out from behind the counter. "So wonderful to see you, my friend! And you've brought a friend today!"

"Hiya, Auto! This is Sierra… um…" trailing off nervously, he looked to her questioningly. But before she could respond the jolly green robo-giant had grasped her in a bear hug… or the closest equivalent.

"A pleasure!" Auto was saying, putting her down gently. "Any friend of Dr. Light is certainly one of mine. What can I do for you two today?"

.o.o.o.

It was late afternoon by the time the pair collapsed on a bench, the newly-purchased goods to one side and large ice cream cones in their hands. As promised, Rock had a triple dip of mint, chocolate and cherry, while Sierra settled for a simple single of vanilla.

"This tastes soooo good!" the boy gushed, laughing as the stuff melted in thin strands over his fingers. "I can't eat it fast enough!"

She stopped to watch him eat, cocking her head to one side curiously. "Do you really taste all of it? I mean, how do you know which is which?"

"Mm, well… see, um… I don't know," he admitted, shrugging. "I just know that I really like chocolate, and strawberry's _nasty! _Your food –human food – tastes good, and the special energy drinks I get are okay too."

"And you sleep, too?"

"Well, yeah!" he licked one finger a bit before biting a large chunk off the waffle cone. "I have to recharge, too! Dad gets mad at me when I sleep in, though."

"I'm sure you use a lot of energy every day…" he gave her a funny look, and she continued, "I mean, little kids like you tend to wear themselves out a lot!"

"Heyyyy!" he protested, "I'm not little!"

"Are too!" Impulsively she stuck her tongue out at him, then, giggling, popped the last bit of her cone into her mouth. Hastily she grabbed the bags of goodies and took off towards the bus stop at a full run. "Last one there's a rusty heap!"

"Sierraaaaaaaaaa! I'm not done yeeeet!"

She still lost the race, even with the head start, but it was fun anyway. Being a robot certainly appeared to have its advantages; she hadn't even noticed that he'd passed her until he stood waving at her triumphantly from the street corner.

The bus ride was uneventful, the time mostly spent telling Rock about what she remembered about her father, and the private school she'd been sent to after his death. It wasn't as hard to discuss as she'd imagined, which relieved her greatly. In the young robot she'd found an attentive friend, and the fact that he was not human had already disappeared from her mind.

Even Dr. Light noticed their high spirits, commenting on how much like a brother and sister they were before returning to work with a cup of tea.

"He's really working hard, huh?" she mused, watching him go with some concern.

"Yeah," Rock agreed, still putting the food away into the fridge and cabinets. "He's got a deadline to make… it's real important to him."

"A deadline? Is he doing a job for somebody?"

"No way! He always does his own work, and hardly ever sells his designs."

"Then how does he manage to keep it all up?" she wondered.

"Well… the city asks him for special stuff from time to time. Otherwise they leave him alone and pay him every month."

"Special stuff?"

She had to repeat the question, while had the feeling he'd ignored it the first time on purpose. He looked up the second time, and opened his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Excusing herself, the girl opened the door, greeted only by empty air. There was no one on the doorstep, the lawn, or even the sidewalk beyond it. Puzzled, she was about to close the door when a small package wrapped in brown paper caught her eye, popped up against the wall near her foot. A note was stuck to it, already open, and she picked it up, reading quickly:

_Your bargaining chip. Use it well._

It was unsigned, but Sierra didn't need a name to know exactly who had left it there. A feeling of uneasiness passed over her, instructing her to slip the thin package into her back pocket before returning inside.

"Who was it?" Rock asked, closing the fridge.

"No one. Just a prank, I guess," she answered, trying to make her shrug as convincing as possible. She couldn't tell if he bought it, and quickly clapped her hands together as if to punctuate a change of subject.

"Time for me to get back to work, then! I really want to finish that computer tonight."

"Can I help?"

Tempted to say no, as reminded by the weight in her pocket, Sierra gave him a smile, nodding despite herself. "Sure, an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt."

.o.o.o.

_Notes: Whew, it was nice to type out something that wasn't quite so serious; there's nothing like a shopping spree and a bunch of ice cream to lighten the mood! And as always, comments and reviews are welcome and appreciated._

_Next Chapter: "Haunting Memories" – another look into her past…_


	7. Chapter 6

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(6)

She sat on her bed, passing the package from one hand to the other, then back again. Rock had left some time ago, once Dr. Light had come in to gently scold him about his bedtime. By then the computer had been completed, with only a few extra pieces still missing from the original tower. Taking no note of it at the time, all that Sierra had left to do was turn on the power…

Idly she opened the small note again, reading the neat, compact handwriting and tracing the words carefully.

"A bargaining chip," she murmured, finally daring to pull away some of the coarse brown paper wrapped around it. Her glance rose suddenly to land on her door, as if guiltily waiting for her grandfather to walk back in and catch her, but another soft tear at the paper returned her attention. A silvery glint winked up at her, and Sierra soon opened the clear plastic case of a CD to stare blankly at it, reading more words from the same hand as on the note aloud.

"Today's News." Her mind snapped back to only a few hours past, when Rock had so adamantly steered her away from the televisions in town. What could have been so unimportant, or _important _that he felt the need to shield her, she wondered with a frown. One hand reached for the power cord and stuck it into the nearest wall socket, and a single finger flicked the switch with a satisfying _click,_ followed by the whirr-and –hum of the warming circuitry. A smile tickled her lips, remembering how as a child she would place a hand on the tower each time her father turned it on, only to giggle at how the metal seemed to vibrate contentedly like a purring kitten beneath her soft touch.

Not at all sure what to expect, the old-style command prompt flickered into a somewhat outdated operating system, and a box opened up immediately, demanding a password. Making a face in mixture of annoyance and wonder – how in the world was the memory still intact, after so many years? – she tried to exit the box, hoping to bypass it. No such luck.

_Login: wlight00_

_Please enter password._

Biting her lip in consternation, the girl sighed heavily, tapping idly against the keyboard and allowing her mind to drift…

.o.o.o.

"_Password? What's that?" she asked, pointing at the screen._

_The man laughed, patting his daughter's head and reveling in her precocious curiosity. "It's a special word or number that people keep as a secret."_

"_Why, daddy?"_

"_Well, if you're trying to hide something away, would you want them to know where the key was?"_

_She thought about that for a moment, then shook her head quickly, turning around and looking at him carefully. "So, a password's a key?"_

"_That's right. And only I know what it is."_

"_I don't know it?" Little Sierra began to pout, blue eyes crinkling at the edges, prompting another, gentler laugh from her father._

"_Oh, don't worry, you know it too."_

"_Tell me!" she begged excitedly, wanting to know what her daddy's secret might be. "Please?"_

"_Oh, I'm sure that you'll figure it out someday."_

.o.o.o.

An assortment of beeps finally filtered into her ears, waking Sierra from a sleep she hadn't known she'd fallen into. Lifting her arm from the keyboard, her skin reddened from the imprint of several keys that had dug into it, and a glance at the screen informed her that the damned box was still there, as if mocking her.

"As if I'd know what the password is," she grumbled, lifting her CD into view once more. Frustrating as it was, she wouldn't be able to look it over that night, and certainly couldn't ask Dr. Light or Rock for any help… they'd wonder who sent the file to her, and who knows what would happen next. She was on her own in this, and the thought made her shiver slightly as she climbed into bed, tucking her slim bargaining chip under the pillow.

She had a few errands to run in the morning.

.o.o.o.

_Next chapter: "Today's News" – The contents of the CD are at last revealed… _


	8. Chapter 7

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part one:login_

(7)

Breakfast seemed hurried, at least to Sierra, but Dr. Light had some work to attend to, and sent Rock out early to fetch parts. The robot dismissed himself after downing a colorful bowl of kid's cereal, and very soon she was left alone in the kitchen to finish the dishes, which suited her just fine. Once the last plate was set to dry she wiped off her hands and slipped out the door, the CD case tucked safely in her back pocket.

Her first thought had been to ask Auto about using one of the many workstations piled around his shop, but his close ties to her grandfather forced her to hastily second-guess it; she didn't want to risk him saying anything, and least of all to run into Rock along the way.

She frowned. Sneaking around certainly wasn't easy, nor was it fun; idly, she decided never to become a "secret agent" or stealth operative that were often portrayed in popular movies.

_Then again,_ she thought, picking up the pace as she headed further into town, _if my own _family_ refuses to let me know everything that's going on, then I don't really have a choice, do I?_

That made her stop dead, the bitter accusation ringing in her ears as if she'd spoken aloud. She _did_ have a choice. There was always the safe way out, sitting tight and being spoon-fed answers when Dr. Light's need-to-know button was finally pushed. But her decision, instead, pointed towards a betrayal to that unconditional safety, and a no-U-turns leap into the unknown.

"I can handle it," she murmured in a meager attempt at self-reassurance, forcing her feet to move again. If memory served, the library was close by, and with it her workstation.

.o.o.o.

The librarian continued to eye her strangely as she unlocked the computer lab, a set of headphones in hand as she pointed to the corner computer. "That's the only one with CD access," she stated with a sniff, and added, "so we'll know if you try to do anything… careless."

Forcing a smile, Sierra took the headphones and made her escape, inwardly rolling her eyes at the woman's rudeness. It had taken some time to convince her that she was only going to watch a news video, and that no, she couldn't do it on her own PC because it was being repaired. Some old fibs, over time, became tried and true to any student who used them sparingly, and though her tongue burned guiltily, a wave of relief soothed it as she sat down at last.

She plugged in the headphones before daring to pop in the CD, holding her breath as the grim image of a middle-aged news anchor folded his hands in front of him and raised his eyes to a waiting audience.

"_Earlier this week, several fires erupted on campus of one of the most prestigious private schools in the nation, claiming the lives of several students. Investigators have ruled out the possibility of gas explosion or simple safety negligence, and revealed their suspicions of arson."_

The camera switched to an on-site location, and Sierra's hand flew to her mouth in horror, recognizing immediately the charred archways, the dying trees along the sidewalks, and collapsed buildings that once boasted the education of the world's best and brightest…

"…_uncertain body count, as the fires began in the middle of the night…" _a fireman was saying roughly, his eyes dark with emotion. "_The science buildings were the obvious target, and…"_

Unable to listen any more, the girl frantically ended the program. The camera had begun to mournfully pan around the scene at that point, but in truth nothing of the building had been spared. She covered her face with the quietest of sobs, the gravity of her new reality sinking in far too quickly.

"You were supposed to be there," a voice said quietly, echoing her very thoughts. Jumping in surprise, she whirled to face the familiar speaker, who had soundlessly taken a seat next to her without her knowing. He received no reply at first, and simply waited, breaking his gaze to look at the now-empty screen, adjusting the ever-present shades upon his nose.

"Those fires were meant for you."

"H-how could you know that?" her own voice sounded distant, rasping slightly as it shook.

"Did you really think your presence would go unnoticed for that long, with all you've accomplished?"

"What are you talking about?" Anger had managed to creep in, and her face hardened as she glared at the youth, her hands clenching into fists on the arm of her chair.

"Think about it," he answered calmly, leaning in closer to her. "You get a call from your only living relative after fifteen years, whisked away that very night… the same evening you were supposed to finish up your project in the science lab?" His hand fell over hers, strangely chill. "You're confined to the old coot's house, with the twerp as your bodyguard while random people…machines… try to kidnap you? Come now, Sierra, I thought you were smarter than that."

The girl paled, panic gripping her heart. "I want out…" she whispered. "I never wanted this…"

"But you see, you can't hide from this anymore. Not after that." He gestured to her workstation, and the CD within. "Now he has to tell you everything."

"I don't understand…"

He growled with sudden impatience, but in a breath had regained his composure, gently reaching to brush an idle brown bang behind her ear. Sierra's tearful blue eyes widened slightly, finding his face suddenly inches from her own.

"Listen to me, Sierra," he began slowly, imprisoning her attention with his intense stare. "You said that you wanted the truth. I've given you a piece, but there's still much more to be found. That disc is a bargaining chip, remember? Show it to your grandfather, and I guarantee he'll have something to say."

"And what do you get out of all this?" she asked, distantly shocked at her own boldness.

"What's my agenda?" A small chuckle burst from his lips. "Just call me an information broker, of sorts."

"Nothing without a price?"

"Exactly." He rose from his seat smoothly, his attention moving to something beyond the walls of the computer lab. "And if you'll excuse me, I have more of my own hunting to do." He had just reached for the doorknob when Sierra finally found her voice again.

"And what, exactly, are you charging me?"

A glance over one shoulder carried with it a playful smirk, and the half-salute he'd given when they'd first met. "Something that you don't have yet."

The door clicked shut behind him, and the ensuing silence brought with it a chill that bit deeply. Sierra shivered, staring after the youth a moment more before giving in to the anger that had long ago begun to boil in her gut.

"The _nerve_ of him!" she hissed loudly, recovering the disc from her PC and grabbing the headphones. "Talking to me like that… like I'm some _pawn_ in a chess game!" Her feet took the initiative, making their way back through the library while her brain strayed some miles away. Barely remembering to return the headphones to the snooty librarian, Sierra began a hurried trek home, but it wasn't long before her inattention caused a collision with someone. Rather, she had collided with some_thing_ that gave a reverberating _clang_ as it, too was knocked over.

"Ow, watch where you're goi—" rubbing her head, she looked up. "Rock?"

"Sierra?"

They stared at each other for a long time, the girl noticing almost immediately that the robot boy wore the strange blue armor from only two nights before, and was more than a bit anxious about her seeing him at all.

"What are you doing here?" they asked at the same time, but an explosion landing too close for comfort brought Rock back to his senses, his face growing cold.

"Sierra, get out of here!" he commanded, moving in front of her. "It isn't safe here!"

"Got that right, Blue Boy!" Forte emerged from behind a tree, his weapon already armed and charging. A fanged grin split his features, golden eyes aflame with a yearning for battle. Rock gave a loud cry, grabbing the girl by the waist and racing somewhere to the side, barely avoiding a line of rapid energy fire.

The black robot hooted with laughter, delighted with the game of chase. "You're a lot slower carrying that lab mouse, Rockman! Just drop 'er and I'll make it quick!"

But Rock only gritted his teeth, a furious gesture that frightened Sierra more than Forte did. She struggled in his grip despite herself, and found herself hastily dropped at the base of a large tree. He was gone before she could say anything, hastily firing his own weapon and drawing the attention of his opponent away from her. Helpless to do anything but watch, she found herself torn; should she stay put and hope Rock would come and get her, or could she make a run for it, and somehow make it back to Light Labs in one piece?

…she'd be damned if she had to wait for anything anymore. Sick of the fighting, and sick of waiting, and sick of being left behind and kept in the dark, Sierra ran as fast as she could from the battle, not stopping until she had slammed the front door behind her.

"GRANDPA!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, confused and terrified and _furious_ as she burst through the hall and threw open to the doors of the main lab –

--which were completely empty.

"Grandpa?" she called again, her voice dropping to a fearful murmur. Her eyes scanned the endless piles of parts and schematics, of equipment and empty workbenches… Everything had been turned off, and the shadows seemed to twitch as if to mock – _Wait…_

"He's not here." The minimal light danced over red and grey armor as he revealed himself at last, and for once Sierra was simply not surprised that this was happening. So much, in fact, that her fury returned swiftly, and she reached for the nearest wrench to hurl at him with all her might.

"WHERE IS HE?" she demanded, even more enraged that the tool only glanced off his armor, and the robot didn't so much as twitch. "What the _hell_ have you done with him!"

"Called away," he stated finally as he started walking towards her. "He's not hurt."

"What!"

And then, with impossible speed, he was in front of her, grabbing her before she could make a move. "Come quietly, and he'll stay unharmed. The old man's not what we're after."

"Oh, _really?_" she spat, narrowing her eyes. "And whatever happened to never coming back here, _friend?_" Twisting, her arm pulled back for a desperate punch, but he caught it expertly, squeezing bone with steel until she cried out in pain as her knuckles began to crack. Still expressionless, he twisted that arm behind her, pressing hard enough that the shooting pain blackened her vision.

"I ran out of time…" she could barely hear him in between gasps of pain, shutting her eyes tightly to keep the hot tears from breaking free.

"I'm sorry, Sierra, but I have to break my promise."

_/part one:login_

.o.o.o.

_Notes: And the end of part one has come at last! It's been slow, but I'm finally getting the hang of it; the next few chapters will deal more with the canon characters as the story progresses. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far – please let me know what you think!_

_**part two:password **– Sierra finds herself in an even worse predicament than before, and Dr. Wily's exceptionally good mood is of no consolation to her, or to his creations. Thoughts of mutiny stew in the mind of Forte, but will they come to fruition?_


	9. Chapter 8

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part two:password_

(8)

It didn't take long for the girl to fall unconscious, and as soon as she had, the robot reached around to punch a button on his wrist. A red glow surrounded them, almost blinding, but he was more than accustomed to it; the visor helped a little, too.

A moment later they were in a completely different setting, and one he would never again return to, had he the choice. He sniffed in disgust, wishing he had the liberty to switch off his olfactory sensors at will. The stone walls were caked with years' worth of mold, moss and lichens, while the metal grating of the floors beneath his feet offered a ridiculous contrast of red rust and blackened grime. He _hated_ this place.

Resisting the urge to sigh, he hoisted the limp body of Sierra over one shoulder and started down the long hallway, which was littered with several mechanical lamps, most of them flickering on and off at random. Neglect was certainly an operative word to describe the entirety of the fortress, for its only living inhabitant had always busied himself with what he considered "more important matters." These days, such matters included constant yelling and ordering around his servants, and lots of grumbling and tinkering behind tightly closed doors.

He approached one pair of these doors now, gingerly shifting his charge and checking to make sure she was still out cold. She was._ Good._ Raising a boot to kick against the door, he ignored the curses from inside and waited, until finally it opened, the hinges creaking painfully in response.

"You have her?"

"No, I just picked up a random prostitute," he answered flatly, then allowing himself the smallest of smirks. "You like brunettes, right?"

"Fool! I have not the time for _jokes!"_

"Eeeasy Doc, go gulp down some coolant. Yes, I have her."

"Excellent!" anger quickly forgotten, the small man emerged to look over his prize. Thin except for a comically round belly, and bald save for a huge moustache and even larger tufts of hair that stuck out just above his ears, Dr. Albert Wily's beady black eyes narrowed as he rubbed two bony hands together gleefully. His lab coat, once white, was dirtied and stained from constant use in the lab; the most recent addition was a large spatter of what the robot guessed was motor oil across the left arm.

"Yes yes, very good…" he was muttering to himself, and the robot began to tap his foot on the floor grates impatiently. Hell, but he_ hated_ this man.

"You've done well, Blues. I'm only disappointed that you haven't brought her to me sooner!"

"…" He grit his teeth to keep from speaking, but continued the foot-tapping.

At last the old man seemed to be satisfied, and eagerly waved them off with one hand. "Throw her in the holding cell, my boy, and I'll deal with her later."

"…"

Wily turned around again. "What is the problem, Blues!"

"We don't _have_ a holding cell."

Ah, but another smirk tugged at his mouth as the old doctor went red, starting at the neck and stopping at the top of his bald head. He could even see the veins pulsing at top speed at the temples.

"THEN MAKE ONE!" he shouted, slamming the lab doors shut behind him.

Knowing he was alone now, Blues allowed himself a chuckle, whistling a carefree tune as he turned on his heel, beginning the search for a "holding cell."

.o.o.o.

Honestly, he was lucky to come upon a storage closet a few corridors back. Not normally one to explore indoors or closed spaces, even sitting around in a place for too long agitated him immensely. His charge had thankfully remained out cold for the entirety of his trek; the last thing he needed was for her to wake up and make trouble.

Finally spotting a door, Blues headed towards it and kicked it open gently. It squeaked loudly, making him wince. _At least we'll hear it if she tries to escape…_ A glance inside made him draw a breath of relief – it was empty, and had a sturdy lock.

"Well, the bus stops here, then." He gently set her on the floor, mouth set into a grim line. "I'm sorry about this, really." One hand reached for a small device on his belt, which he placed on one corner of the room. It whirred to life, a green light blinking twice before staying lit, and the robot looked one last time at the prisoner before leaving the room and locking it behind him.

.o.o.o.

_Notes: A short chapter, but I hope it suffices for now! I'm trying to get past some writer's block on my Final Fantasy VII story… Anyway, I'd like to take a second to thank the reviewers thus far! You guys are great!_

_Next chapter: "The Cobra" – Blues is confronted by Forte, who suspects a hidden agenda. Are his actions in the best interest for everyone, or simply for himself?_


	10. Chapter 9

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part two:password_

* * *

(9) 

A whistle echoed through the corridors, the tempo set with the equally haunting footsteps of a red-and-grey robot. The tune was strong but nostalgic, but had anyone been around to see him, they wouldn't be able to determine his true expression. A darkened visor hung over his eyes, and a bright yellow scarf lay draped over his shoulders, often perched high enough to conceal his chin. Blues valued his privacy, which was an anomaly in itself for one of his kind, though everything about him (at least, according to the other creations inhabiting this dank hole) was perfectly shrouded in a cloak of mystery. He never revealed anything unless it was completely necessary; a good argument for how he managed to sow mistrust so quickly.

But Blues never cared about what anyone thought, and especially not for the opinions of his creators. Loyalty did not appear to be his strong suit, or he simply didn't give a damn who was calling the shots, so long as he had something to do.

The tune softened as he neared the heavy door from before. Wily was still in there, all right, and from the yelling and crashing of equipment against random walls, he guessed that Forte had also returned. Not bothering to knock this time, the 'bot let himself in, expertly dodging a random projectile – _ah, so that's where Cutman's arm went._

"You fool of a machine! You dare to come back empty-handed!"

Forte snarled, ebony armor glinting dangerously as he reared back, the resemblance to a coiling cobra more than uncanny. Closer inspection showed that he looked a little worse for wear, and Blues idly guessed that Rockman had, yet again, bested him and sent him home with tail between his legs. _But with fangs still bared,_ he added silently with a smirk.

"I couldn't get anywhere close! That damned Blue Bomber kept leading me away from the lab, and the girl!"

"Then why did you not simply grab the girl and go, once he ran!"

"_Because I wanted to kill Rockman!"_ the wrathful howl shook the stone walls, but Wily still stared at his creation in disdain, completely unfazed.

"Well, then perhaps it's a good thing Blues knows how to follow orders. We have the girl after all, thanks to his _competence_." The man spat on the floor, throwing his arms in the air in an overdramatic display of frustration. "Why must I be surrounded by _idiots!_ My genius was meant for more than this!"

Blues cleared his throat, effectively cutting off Forte's next outburst, but the scientist continued to ramble on to himself, picking up a wrench and poking at some schematics. Unperturbed, he stepped closer, even daring to glance over the plans himself before Wily jumped, swiping angrily at the robot.

"How dare you disturb me!"

"The girl's locked up, _sir,"_ he answered smoothly. "And sleeping soundly, I might add."

It was amusing to see how quickly the human facial expressions could change; Wily's wrinkled visage melted from rage to maniacal delight in .0064 seconds. _Has to be a record._

"Goooood. Very good!" Both hands rubbed together excitedly, and Wily then went back to his work as if nothing had happened. Behind the visor, Blues blinked.

"Um…"

A beady set of eyes peered up at him, narrowed. "What is it now?"

"What do you want me to do about the girl?"

"I'll kill her," Forte suggested under his breath, and Wily spun on him, shaking a fist in the air.

"_You will do NO SUCH THING!_ She is very important to my plans!"

"Riiiight, right, we know, Doc. Come on," the red 'bot closed the distance between himself and Forte, grabbing his arm and leading him out of the lab. "We don't want to hear another rant…"

As soon as the door had shut, his companion shook off the grip, growling. "What the hell was that for!"

"You look like you've got enough injuries without him denting you further," Blues commented, starting down the hall again and glancing over his shoulder. "You should go into stasis for a while… cool off."

A moment passed, and the smell of ozone filled the air. He didn't have to turn around to know that the furious 'bot was charging his weapon, and chose not to give him the satisfaction of turning around. "And what's _that_ gonna solve?" he quipped.

"You've been acting real funny lately, prototype," Forte's voice was a low hiss, dangerously calm. "Butting in on _my_ assignments, pulling the disappearing act…"

"Like the old man said, kid, you couldn't get the job done. You're far too emotional to even pull off an easy espionage mission."

With a cry, the black 'bot released the energy from his weapon, and a piece of the wall inches away collapsed violently, sending a tremor through the floor grating. "I shouldn't have to do those stupid jobs! I'm supposed to blow it all up, not sneak in and snitch a few bits of worthless paper! Besides, I got ambushed last time!"

Smirk. "Yes, I _do_ happen to recall hauling your butt back home that night."

"Shut up!"

Blues remembered that night fairly well, when he saved Sierra from a ruthless throttling… it only reminded him again how dangerous Forte truly was. He couldn't have killed her, at least on purpose, since his orders didn't allow it, but Blues didn't want to think about what would have happened if he didn't stealthily intervene. He had to keep him in check; Wily even warned ahead of time to shadow him carefully. If memory served, Forte had always been eagerly violent, but lately his tantrums were dipped in a much different flavor: jealousy.

Nervous speculation about Wily's new and glorious pet project had spread quickly through the castle, thanks to the rumor-mongers among the Robot Masters (namely Elecman and Magnetman). Its secrecy got on everybody's nerves, especially Forte's, who despised being kept out of the loop. When asked, the scientist would only say that his work "was his greatest creation" and would "shut Thomas Light up once and for all."

For days on end, Wily locked himself away in the lab, which was normally nothing new. In the last few months, however, the old man had only emerged a handful of times, eating, sleeping and working nonstop in the lab. His demands were primarily given via Forte, and thus, the other robots had decided to keep themselves on the other side of the fortress, well-secluded and out of the way of "the cobra's" infamous wrath. If the hourly bouts of laughter were any indication, the work seemed to be going well. However, his latest excitement centered around the girl, Sierra. Fireman had been sent to the college to retrieve her, which, in Blues' honest opinion, was the stupidest decision in the world.

_Idiot panicked and lost his temper when he couldn't find her, and burned down the whole building. Like the old man _needs_ more publicity…_

"Calm down," he muttered, turning around with arms crossed over his chest. "This isn't going to help things, you know."

"If I could get my hands on that damned remote…"

"You'll be free at last, you'll kill the doc, you'll hunt down Rockman… I know the list by heart now, cobra, so give it a rest." Ah yes, Wily's safety switch – when Forte went too out of control, or happened to threaten and promise death a little too convincingly, a single button would switch him off. In addition, a small bit of memory would be erased, so that he couldn't call up the reason he lost his cool in the first place. Handy toy, that remote…

"_You're_ supposed to find and deliver it to me!" Forte snapped, baring his teeth menacingly.

He shrugged. "Can't help it if Wily's great at hiding things. You saw the lab; it's gonna take me some time to sort out the trash from the treasure without being noticed."

"What about the project?" he asked quickly. "Have you—"

_Beepbeep._ Blues glanced down at his wrist, where a small light began flickering wildly. "Sierra's awake. I'm going to go check on her… tell Wily she's awake."

"What!" apparently, the task seemed far to menial for him. "Why the _hell_ should I—"

"Ah ah ah," he cut him off quickly, shaking a finger at him, "I don't want you near her. You want that remote, don't you?"

Golden eyes glittered, flaring with anger, but Forte desisted, reddening and clenching both gloved hands into fists. "If I hadn't made a deal with you, prototype…"

"But you did, and I've named my price. Go."

_

* * *

Notes: The "remote" concept is as old as the original story I wrote years ago, but its existence at that time didn't make much sense based on the level of technology that's supposedly available in 20XX. Wily has always appeared to be the biggest coward to me, but also incredibly arrogant in that his superiority complex probably ends up being programmed into his own robots. Thus, we have an uncontrollable Forte with a bit too much free will, and the attitude to back it up, so the good ol' doc made said remote in this version merely to keep him in check, or deactivate him if he got too out of control. Or it could be that he's on a constant power trip. Who knows! Frankly, if there wasn't a reset button for Forte, I'd be a bit nervous, too. _

_Next chapter: "Confrontations"—Blues' attempts to meddle take a turn he doesn't expect, while Forte has a tantrum and Sierra experiences a revelation._


	11. Chapter 10

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part two:password_

* * *

(10)

Anxiously awaiting Wily's arrival, Blues leaned his head against the wall separating him from Sierra's makeshift cell, listening for movement. Aside from shifting around to take in her surroundings, the girl had made no sound, which strangely sent a thread of relief through his mind.

_Smart girl, not panicking. _He'd noticed it from the beginning; Sierra rarely fell into fits of strong emotion, waiting instead for the answers to present themselves.

_Just like her dad._

The 'bot coughed suddenly, just as the old scientist ambled down the corridor towards him with Forte and another Robot Master in tow – for security, he surmised. Although far too inclined to make excuses rather than admit it, Wily was one of the biggest cowards he'd ever seen, and his treatment of Forte, his own violent creation, was no exception. But to be so afraid of a young girl? That was beyond pathetic.

The other Robot Master – Gutsman – gave him a scowl as they passed, a testament to Blues' constant lack of respect to them, to their creator, and just about everything else. But the red robot only smirked in return, crossing both arms over his chest and gesturing with a nod of his head towards the locked room.

"Inside Door Number One, gentlemen, is your prize." _But is it the lady or the tiger,_ he added amusedly to himself. Wily ignored him as Gutsman clumsily worked the lock, swinging the door open so hard that it nearly splintered against the adjacent stone walls. Almost.

He glanced at Forte with a finger raised, and the cobra hissed, taking a guard position outside while the others entered. The door was closed again (more gently this time), allowing only the occasional murmur to pass through to spying ears.

Incredibly agitated, Forte began to fidget, snarling to himself occasionally. "What the hell's going on in there?"

"Who knows."

Unsatisfied, he pressed on. "Sounds like the old idiot's doing all the talking… she stupid or something?"

A soft chuckle. "Would you interrupt one of the Doc's rants?"

Ah, there it was, the smallest glimmer of a fanged smirk. "Hah. Hell no."

"There you go."

Silence fell once more, both concentrating on collecting whatever bits of conversation they could possibly get, though Blues only did so half-heartedly; he'd get his chance soon enough. The scientist droned on and on, pausing only occasionally as the girl would cut in with a few very choice words.

_That's it, don't give in,_ he thought, but a golden glare from Forte brought him back to his senses – he hadn't even realized he'd spoken aloud. _Damn._

"What was that?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play stupid with me, prototype. Ever since Fireman messed up, you've been on edge." His strides slowed to a languid stalk, and he stopped right in front of Blues, peering at the darkened visor expectantly. "Hiding, even."

"And what's that supposed to mean? I have nothing to hide."

"Like hell!" Forte roughly grabbed him by the scarf, his other hand placed threateningly along the edge of the crimson helmet. "How easy would it be to hide those thoughts of yours if I took this away, eh? Where's the mystery then?"

"Let go of me, Forte."

"Or what?" He sneered, already tugging at the visor in an attempt to rip it away. "What could you possibl—" the raspy voice cut off abruptly with a pained grunt, and the ebony-clad 'bot sank slowly to the floor. Golden eyes flared in fury as they fell upon a scarlet fist – the one that had embedded itself between the plates of his armor only a moment before.

Blues said nothing for a time, readjusting his helmet and resuming his relaxed position against the wall as if nothing had happened. "Don't push it, cobra, or the deal is off."

The door swung open, and Dr. Wily emerged with Gutsman close behind. The former gave Forte a curious glance before his beady eyes swiveled to regard the crimson robot instead. "Keep an eye on her."

"Just one?" he quipped, cocking his head to one side. "Care to elaborate, o ambiguous one?"

"She must be healthy!" he snapped back, stomping one foot against the floor grates with a _clang_ and a _creak_ of metallic protest "Her work begins tomorrow! Forte, you idiot, get up! I have a job for you." A motion to Gutsman, and the burly Robot Master grasped Forte by the arm, forcibly bringing him to his feet. This earned him a swift roundhouse kick to the jaw, barely missing Wily as he flew back into the wall. The crash was deafening, but somehow the ancient walls still managed to hold, a terrific cloud of dust and debris erupting all around.

"_Don't touch me."_ Forte took a step towards Wily, then another, and finally decided to simply brush past, roughly shoving the doctor aside to clear the path. A split-second later the scientist regained his composure, taking a long breath and shouting a long series of obscenities as he followed his menacing creation back to the lab.

Blues idly glanced at Gutsman, grinning. "Seeing stars, Gutsy?"

"Shu'up, guts. Got a headache, guts. Ow. Guts."

This time he laughed outwardly, watching the apelike construction amble away, swinging his arms with each step. Only when he turned the corner did Blues turn back towards the door, opening it slightly to peer inside. The girl was staring off into space, her hands clenched into fists and resting in her lap. Several strands of hair had fallen from her ponytail, and dirt covered her clothing, and yet she wore an expression of proud defiance… one that her grandfather would certainly be proud of.

_Her dad, too_, he thought again before he could stop himself. "Sierra?"

Eyes rimmed red with silent tears slowly met his, but she otherwise remained still. Taking a step inside, he shut the door quietly behind him. Her stare remained, her mouth pressed into a tight, grim line, which for some reason made him uneasy.

"So… you met the doc, eh?"

Silence.

"Heh, yeah, I know what you mean. He goes on and on about himself, his genius, yadda yadda, and you just don't know what to make of it. Me? I shut up, too. Once he figures out you're not really listening, though, he quits."

He sat down, sighing gently and giving her a smile. "Wily's a real piece of work, let me tell you. Crazy son of a—well, you know that already, right?"

"Who… are you?"

Taken aback, he paused.

"Who are you?" she repeated, louder, turning to face him with hardened features. Her resolve had been shaken, but not broken… despite her capture she was all the more determined to get her answers. He had to admire that.

"They call me Blues."

"They called you a prototype," she stated calmly. "_The_ prototype."

Stiffening, he sat up, the smile fading from his face. _I don't like where this is going…_ "Did they, now? What else did they tell you?"

"Damn it, what do you want?" she demanded, jumping to her feet. "You show up, try to capture me… then come back to help me, and then bring me to this godforsaken hole to help that… that… _monster_! And now you want to play nice while you interrogate me! Is this just a game to you!" Fury filled her from head to toe, her face awash in red from pent-up anger and frustration. "You think you're so _advanced,_ so _superior_ that an idiot human being like me needs to be kept in the dark, to be your pawn? Is that the flaw that my grandfather found in you?"

It happened in a scarlet flash, far too fast for the natural eye to see. All Sierra knew next was that she was against the wall, her captor bearing down on her with incredible ferocity. The inability to see his eyes made him even more frightening, his hand gripping her shoulder tighter than a steel vise. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, her own anger rising to a new level. Staring him down, she dared him to try something. She wasn't afraid.

"You… don't know a damned thing about me," he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. "You couldn't possibly have _any_ idea what I've gone through… what I've sacrificed… just to survive!"

"You went with Wily… willingly," he could see her wince upon hearing her own voice break. "Abandoned my grandfather… and my father."

"Stop it…" his grip on her tightened, and this time a whimper escaped her. "Stop it…!"

"He said… that a robot killed my father… because he wouldn't join them…" gasping now, she fought to keep speaking, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Was it you? Did you kill one of your creators… break the First Law of Robotics…?"

"Shut _up_!" he backed away, letting her go and raising a hand to his face as if to block her words. Of all the times he wished he could stop listening, just switch off his ears… _Make it stop…_

"Was it… you?"

Growling, he raised his head, all control lost in a frenzy of fear and anger -- that evaporated immediately away as his hidden eyes fell on her again. Even now the girl stared at him, refusing to leave him in privacy with his agony. She clutched her arm, already darkening from the bruises of his fingertips and hanging limply at her side. Blues gaped at it, finally coming to his senses.

"I…that…" he shook his head slowly, taking another step, then another into the hall, before turning away completely and slamming the door shut behind him. Only when the lock activated with a dull _click_ did he finally reach for the button on his wrist, teleporting him away from the fortress… and away from Sierra.

_

* * *

Author's Notes: Just hit midterms, so it will be a while until the next update… sorry guys! Forgive any typoes, but keep up the reviews – feedback rules, and will definitely help me through the loooong two weeks ahead._

_Next chapter: "Recollection": A closer look into the past… Blues accepts his sins, but what will he do to atone?_


	12. Chapter 11

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part two:password_

* * *

_Note: The "Three Laws of Robotics" are the brainchild of literary genius Isaac Asimov; they are **not** mine._

* * *

(11)

The fresh smell of clean air filled his nose, but he barely noticed the trees that appeared around him. There was no comfort here, now… his eyes stung with the last vestiges of his violent episode, and Blues angrily pulled off his red helmet and hurled it to the ground with all his strength. Of course, it didn't shatter; it took a pretty good energy blast to even dent the thing. Nonetheless, seeing that his effort had no effect only agitated him more.

"What the hell was I doing?" he asked, raising his head towards the sky even as he collapsed to the earth. "I swore… I wouldn't…"

The memories began to consume him, just as they had so many times before…

.o.o.o.

_He sat up, looking himself over for the first time and blinking new eyes in wonder. Two arms… two legs… hands and feet… _

Human,_ he thought, surprised to realize the existence of a mindvoice. _I'm shaped like a human.

"_Am I… human?" his mouth contorted awkwardly to form the sounds. So strange!_

"_No," someone answered from behind him, and he turned his head quickly to see who it was. Not one, but three men were watching him, and automatically his mind accessed the "memories" of their identities:_

**Albert Wily, Dr.**

**Robotics Engineer**

**Creator**

**Thomas Light, Dr.**

**Robotics Engineer/ AI Programmer**

**Creator**

…**Unknown. Unknown. Identity file not found.**

_Blankly he stared at the third human, who seemed quite a bit younger than his companions, and remarkably resembled Dr. Thomas Light. "File not found," he murmured aloud._

_Dr. Albert Wily scratched his bald head – what a curious gesture – and glanced at him sternly. "What do you mean, 'not found'? Stupid robot, doesn't even know who he—"_

"_Albert, Albert, calm yourself," Dr. Light's lips turned upward. "It's only a glitch. Can you understand me?" he spoke to him now, and the creation nodded assent._

"_What am I?" he asked, addressing the unknown man, who seemed surprised._

"_Dad… he's trying to assert his identity!"_

"_Yes, I can see that! Albert, isn't it remarkable?"_

"_Indeed, Thomas. Your son is… quite the genius."_

_.o.o.o._

_Two weeks passed. The creation – referred to as 'prototype' – began to discover his world as he was constantly poked, prodded and studied by his creators. Dr. Wily in particular constantly interrogated him, asking strange questions that made little sense to him, but mostly concerned the Three Laws of Robotics. Dr. Light, on the other hand, preferred to speak conversationally as he checked up on the prototype's systems. Sometimes his son would be there, too, typing away at the computer rather than interacting._

"_Dr. Light?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_What am I?"_

"_You are a prototype robotic bioroid, my boy. The very first of your kind."_

"_I see… but… what am I for?"_

"_We're to learn from you," he answered warmly, patting him on the shoulder, "so that your brothers and sisters can evolve into even better robots."_

"_Evolve?"_

"_Oh yes, you're by no means perfect… but that's all right, isn't it?"_

_He didn't have an answer._

.o.o.o.

Perfect. What did that even mean? It was amusing, yet disturbing that such imperfect beings tried to work towards such an ideal… and not even for themselves! No matter how they toiled, tweaked and adjusted, they were never satisfied with what they had in front of them. Diligence devoted to an unreachable goal eventually led to obsession, dissatisfaction and impatience… and it was this downward spiral that in the end drove Albert Wily to insanity.

He remembered that night all too well… Wily had awakened him from stasis to give him a "necessary upgrade", downloading the files into his mental mainframe and deleting what he called "excess." At the time, Blues had no notion of what was truly going on, and simply went along with it. Only when the doctor pushed him back into the stasis capsule for a manual reset did he realize that something was horrible wrong… and by then it was far too late.

Much as he tried, Blues could only remember bits and pieces of the following few years; a product of Wily's clumsy tampering with advanced programming. Though a genius engineer, the man understood very little about AI, beyond what he could copy from Blues' own imperfect code. This easily explained the varied levels of intelligence among his Robot Masters, and Blues pitied the ones who became subject to bumbling program experiments. He lost count after a while, and after months of trying to figure out how in the world Forte ended up with a perfectly functioning (if not twisted) brain, figured that even prideful scientists get a lucky break once in their lifetime.

Among the scattered fragments, and perhaps the clearest of them, surrounded a small girl with bright blue eyes… and the fire that took her father from her.

He had broken the First Law of Robotics.

He had killed a human being. And, he had left that little girl for dead as well.

He had broken the First Law of Robotics. Twice.

"Yes, it was me…" he announced, though Sierra couldn't hear him now. "I was the one who killed him…" _I'm sorry…_

.o.o.o.

"_Leave us alone!" the man shouted at him, cradling the form of his daughter protectively in his arms. Destructive flames already had begun to creep throughout the room, devouring everything they touched. Years of work and research would soon dissolve into ash… and the creator was helpless to do anything but watch. "I've given you my answer!"_

"_Then I have no choice." Blues raised his arm, feeling it rearrange and form into an energy cannon, feeling the heat of the rising blast send shivers down his spine. "You are now a threat."_

_The girl began to cough, though already unconscious from the heavy smoke. Desperate, her father tried to bolt for the door in a last-ditch effort to escape…_

"_Too slow!" the robot shouted, adjusting his aim and watching without emotion as a wave of deadly energy slammed into the young scientist's back. A scream erupted from his throat, the force of the blast making him drop his beloved daughter to the floor. Gasping for air, he coughed up blood instead, reaching out to the sleeping girl. "Si…erra…"_

_Another blast tore his voice from him… permanently. His eyes glazed over, frozen in anguish, but Blues could only stare blankly, confirming the kill before leaving the burning lab._

.o.o.o.

He snapped awake, the retreating memories burning even more deeply into his mind. Wincing, Blues sat up as longish bangs fell over his face playfully. He reached out to pick up his helmet, gazing at it for some time before replacing it over his head. Coming here had only renewed old pain, if not intensified it – there was no point in staying any longer. He had a job to do.

_

* * *

_

_Author's Notes: I'M NOT DEAD! Here's a new chapter at last, and I'm so sorry to make you guys wait so long. Between my year-long study overseas and everything else going on, it's been pretty tough to stay afloat, let alone keep this story going! _

_Anyway, I know this chapter's short, but the next one is going to be closer to normal length for this fic. I should be updating with more regularity now, so stay tuned!_

_**Next chapter: "Trust": **__Blues has his hands full making sure that his plans are in place, but who is he _really_ working for? What does he want from Sierra, and can he convince her to hand it over?_


	13. Chapter 12

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part two:password

* * *

_

Note: Just a reminder, the Three Laws of Robotics are the creative property of Isaac Asimov.

* * *

(12)

"I know what's going on in there, Forte."

The ebony 'bot stopped in his tracks, glancing over one shoulder with curiosity. "And where have _you_ been?" he asked suspiciously, idly tracing one of the stripes that ran down to his chin in a recognizably anxious twitch. "Wily's been lookin' for you."

_Damn. Must've seen Sierra's arm._ "What, he can't plan any hare-brained schemes without my influential presence by his side? I'm honored. Touched, even," he quipped.

"Cut the crap, prototype. Where did you disappear to?"

"That answer's going to cost you."

_Growl._

"Do you want to know what Wily's up to or not, Cobra? I obviously don't have all night, the wacko needs his muse."

"Is it the remote?" Manic glee darkened Forte's golden eyes to burnished bronze.

"No. Worse." He shook his head, holding up a small disc he produced from his belt. "It's about the new project: he's making a new model."

A pause, then Forte rolled his eyes. "Dammit Blues, he _always_ makes new models. What the hell's so special about this one?!"

"Free will, and no rules."

"…what did you say?"

"You heard me," he replied, crossing both arms over his chest. "A free-thinking mechanical organism without most of the boundaries we have."

"But that's… insane! Wily would never make something he couldn't control _somehow_."

Blues could only nod, knowing that the black 'bot was a prime case in point – hence, the remote. But what of this new … _thing…_ that probably couldn't be stopped? Forte made a good argument, though, but had almost instantly shifted gears to the more attractive possibilities.

"No stupid Three Laws? No tracking devices? That would be one sweet deal!" he continued, shifting back and forth excitedly.

"Your programming doesn't follow the Three Laws, Forte."

"Yeah, maybe, but I still have to follow the old fool's orders! You know how annoying that is? I don't have that convenient little glitch of yours, prototype, that lets you come and go as you please."

_As if that made my situation better,_ Blues thought with a flare of anger. _You know nothing about me, little spitting Cobra, and you never will, if I have any say in it._ "Whatever. You're missing the point here."

"And that is?"

"Come on, think about it… You said it yourself: if we get our hands on the programming code, adapt it to our systems, we wouldn't be tied here any more!"

"Yeah, but how would we install it, genius? Wily doesn't even know much about programming, and made damned sure that we didn't, either!"

At that, Blues dangled the data disc in front of Forte's face again, a knowing smile stealing across his lips. "Ah, you see, that's where the girl comes in."

A blank stare. "I don't get it."

"She's our link to the program code." He waited a few moments for the realization to sink in before going on, the transition from confusion to excitement much quicker than normal. Forte's hands clenched into fists, and he stared at them with wonder, as if just noticing they were there.

"So… we have to keep her alive."

Blues let out the breath he'd been holding, nodding again. "Yeah. But more than that, we have to get her on our side while keeping Wily fooled."

"We have to destroy that new model."

Though he knew it was coming, the red robot winced at the dripping menace within that statement. He started down the corridor, the footfalls echoing around him. "One thing at a time, okay? I need to go pester the old man now… think you can keep yourself out of trouble for that long?"

"No need," Forte growled sharply, "He's already sent me on another errand."

"Well, be a good boy and fetch, then." He had only just teleported out before a retaliatory energy bullet pummeled the stones somewhere behind him.

"I have been calling you for over an hour!!! Where have you been?!"

"Had to take a powder break, boss, all this work is bad for my skin," Blues retorted lightly, though his bantering felt half-hearted. Wily certainly served no intellectual challenge, at any rate.

"Don't give me your stupid excuses, you worthless pile of steel! Tell me, did this _break_ happen to include nearly breaking the arm of my most valuable asset?!" the scientist raged, throwing a wrench full-force into the wall and sending a pile of junk parts crashing all over the floor. Blues didn't flinch, but did allow himself a frown, trying to figure out the best way to defuse this situation. He'd messed up, plain and simple, lost control… but if Wily found out, he'd be quickly subjected to a nice healthy round of "examinations"… which was by no means good for his systems, when it came to this man. It wasn't normal for different aspects of his programming to conflict like that… and yet it was happening more and more.

He was running out of time. In more ways than one, too, it seemed.

"Doc, she was trying to … she picked a fight. Spirited one, she is. I had to subdue her quickly."

"And _that's_ your explanation for this?! I go to check on her and inform her of my plans, and she can't move her arm! I need her healthy and in one piece, you idiot!" If the man went any redder, he would probably give himself an aneurism. Amusing as such an event might be, he wasn't quite ready to let Wily kick it just yet.

Blues sighed. "She _is_ in one piece. Don't worry, that arm will heal up in a day or two, and you'll put her to work, you take over the world, yadda yadda and all that with a bag of chips. Heck, I'll even examine it myself, how's that?"

The moustache twitched from side to side, while suspicious black eyes glittered angrily at him. Wily took a long time to make sure his projects went all according to plan, and disruptions to the timetable made him even crazier than the failings of his robotic creations. Knowing this, Blues hoped to distract him into thinking that the setback was too minor to take seriously; everything would be just fine. All he had to do was make sure Wily thought so, too.

Finally, the old man whirled around and threw his hands in the air, flailing about for a moment and muttering to himself under his breath – a good sign, at least he wasn't yelling anymore.

"Fine, Blues. This is _your_ mistake, and now it is _your_ responsibility to fix it. You are now completely in charge of the girl's welfare – you will guard her, feed her, make sure that she recovers and does as she is told, do you understand?"

Wily had whirled around to point rather overdramatically at him, like a father sending a son to his room without dinner for talking back. Blues felt the beginnings of a true smile tug at his lips, and he ducked his head quickly into a nod beneath his scarf to conceal it.

Thinking he was giving a severe punishment, Wily had no clue that he'd done exactly what Blues had wanted him to do… only a little bit sooner than expected. Maybe his "mistake" had been a blessing in disguise, after all.

Now for the hard part.

o.o.o.o

The door opened slowly this time; his hand pushing it forward into the darkness of the cold stone room, the sounds too loud and echoing too much for such a small space. He would have to fix that. And maybe dig up some blankets, and a pillow too… the place was just too gloomy, too uninviting and bleak. Of course, things hadn't exactly gone according to plan, and –

_WHACK!_ Blues _felt_ rather than heard the ringing in his ears as something decidedly metal slammed against the back of his helmet, trying to knock him out. Operative word: trying. Oh yeah, he was dazed, and chided himself gently for being caught off-guard like that.

Not bothering to do much more than shake his head as he straightened, he sent the girl in front of him an amused smirk. "Congratulations. Had you done that three seconds later, you might have been able to slide past me and through the door. After that, I'm not quite sure what your plan was, but sweetheart, we've got to work on your –"

_WHACK!_ She did it again, probably more to wipe the grin off of his face than anything. He really looked at her now, saw the desperation lining her face as dried tears and reddened eyes no less fiery than they had been before.

She was about to lay another metal kiss on him for good measure, but Blues grabbed the thing this time – ah, Wily had thought to leave a random wrench lying around? How _clever_ of him

"—timing. And remember, third time's the charm," he continued as if the interruption had never occurred, cheerfully pulling the makeshift weapon from her hand and tossing it behind him into the hallway. He'd take care of it later. "Now, why don't we sit down and have another little chat, hmm?"

"I don't want to talk to you," she spat, wisely taking two steps backwards and hugging herself.

"I can believe it." The humor faded from his voice, as did most of his grin. One hand reached up to test his helmet for nicks, and found a good-sized dent in one area just above his ear. "Ow, I'll have to repair that myself, you know. The old man's never taking new appointments for checkups."

"How can you do that?"

He stopped, looking up. "Do what?"

She stared at him, blue eyes squinting to see in the growing darkness of the evening. He noticed with some self-directed anger that she was still cradling her hurt arm, keeping it turned protectively away from his reach.

"How can you… be so light about things? Joking, even? This place… that man… you don't fit in here. You're different."

"We're all different," he shrugged, tugging on his scarf a bit. "Courtesy of the personality programming. Makes things kind of random once we're activated, you know?"

"Not like that, it doesn't," she murmured, studying him further. "You—"

"Let me see that arm," the red 'bot cut in quickly, extending his hand as he shut the door with the toe of his boot. Sierra tensed, and he knew she remembered their conversation only hours ago. Blues did, as well, of course, but for the moment ignored it, hoping that a fresh start might make her easier to deal with. "Come on, I won't bite."

"What do you care? You're the one that nearly broke it."

Well, scratch that idea... the conversation was heading south fast. He felt himself visibly wince, drawing back. "Look, I really didn't want to… or even mean to do it, if you can ever believe me. The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"'It really has little to do with me,'" she murmured, still warily staring at him.

"Excuse me?"

"That's what you said, isn't it?" she pressed, brushing some of the loose bangs from her face. "When you first tried to capture me, you said that. I still haven't figured out what you meant."

"So you remember that?" _Figured the bump on your head would wipe out that memory, at least,_ he thought to himself somewhat angrily. This girl had brought him nothing but trouble from the very beginning… and yet the way things had turned on their heads could still be made for the better… if he played his cards right. But right now, he had to get the subject changed to some safer grounds. He had to remember what he came here for.

"Sierra…" he stepped forward again, not letting her back off as he gingerly reached out to inspect the damage he'd done. Careful taps, a bit of twisting here and there seemed fine, but extending the arm brought out the smallest squeak. Silence fell very quickly, and he reached up to tap a spot on his visor, and a display lit up that only he could see, scanning deep beneath the surface tissue until finally he could let go a sigh of relief.

"It'll be fine," Blues said at last, "Just some muscular strain, and internal bruising. No crazy movements and you'll be good as new in less than a week."

"And then what?" Sierra glanced up, tensing again upon realizing that she'd tangled her free hand into the edges of his scarf during the inspection. She kept herself from looking up into that annoying, dark visor of his, not wanting to give him either the satisfaction of knowing she was uncomfortable, or the curiosity she had about what lay beneath that strange helmet. _What color were his eyes, and why did she even care?_ He was a robot, a machine! Sure, Rock proved himself to be a living, breathing entity with a life of his own, but that didn't mean this one was, too!

"And then…" Blues trailed off, indeed noticing her hesitation, and his own in turn. "I need to talk to you about that, actually."

"Really. Somehow I'm not surprised. All that _nice_ pretence, only to inform me of my imprisonment sentence. Let me guess… first I have to fix your helmet?" The hand in his scarf clenched tightly into a fist, and she tugged it some, intrigued that it felt much softer than it looked.

"Aha, no. Only I do that. Nice try, though." He tried to step back, allow her some distance, but her grip remained, and he stopped. "Look, what do you know about Dr. Light's work?"

"Grandpa makes robots, and apparently some that can fight. But you knew that already, so why ask me?" Shrugging with an impression of nonchalance, her chin tilted upwards in further defiance.

"Actually," he tilted his head, attempted to catch her eye. "I was referring to your father."

That got her attention. "D-Dad?" The anger seemed to return, and rather quickly at that, hurling her backwards with a bitter recoil. Ironically enough, she still held the scarf, having pulled it completely from his shoulders and dragged it close to her body like a lifeline. "Well, wouldn't you know more about that than me? You were the one that –"

"Stop right there." The words were sharp, commanding, and reverberated hollowly through the room. "That is not what I asked you. Look…" noting her rising fear, he quickly changed tactics, "Look. The way I work is this – I'm a sort of merchant, but my trade is information, you see? I can tell there's things you want to know, but you understand a fair bit that I _need_ to know. So, there's a possibility for trade here, and I'm more than willing to give you a good price – or in this case, answers – in return for what you can tell me."

Sierra stared at him blankly, seemingly caught in a fleeting memory that evaded her. Her face scrunched up in frustration, and she let out a long breath of air, comically sending a bang over the top of her head to rest. "You're asking me to tell you what I know about my father in return for some silly answers I can discover for myself? Try again, laser-brain, I'm not an idiot. You'd have to feed me some damned good information for me to give you anything. Why should I even trust you? You'll just report all of this back to Wily, stat."

_Good point. Good girl, you're _not_ an idiot._ "You're right, I might. But then again, I may not. I may have my own agenda that I need this information for."

Sierra crossed her arms, albeit somewhat awkwardly given her injury, and tossed her head back, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Now _that's_ interesting. Going against your programming, possibly conspiring against a creator? I just might need proof of that."

"I—" Okay, so he wasn't expecting a response like _that_. The girl obviously wasn't going to give up what she knew so easily, and had probably realized he wasn't going to hurt her anymore, either, so what was left to do?

"Proof," he repeated, slowly. "You want actual proof that I'm trying to help you and not that fool Wily."

* * *

_Author's Notes: A lot of dialogue this time; I hope it wasn't too tedious. It's been really tough to get back in the swing of things, so there's bound to be some style change from when I last worked on the story. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think!_

_**Next Chapter: "Token of Faith": **__Sierra makes her request, challenging Blues' authority and integrity. Will she accept her place in the scheme of things, or can she use the past to create her own stake in the game?_


	14. Chapter 13

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part two:password

* * *

Note: This chapter is dedicated to MungoJerry for their great reviews and support! Thanks so much!

* * *

_

(13)

"Proof," he repeated, slowly. "You want actual proof that I'm trying to help you and not that fool Wily."

"That's exactly what I want. Have any starting bids?" Her foot tapped impatiently in a rapid rhythm on the dusty stone floors, kicking up a small cloud of it.

And for the life of him and all his circuits, Blues couldn't help but burst into laughter at that. It was so uniquely absurd, verbally sparring with this girl when in any other situation he might be using scare tactics or some other nonsense. 'Good faith?' As a prisoner, she was already getting the royal treatment, and now was making demands and forcing negotiations? Ha! He had to be nuts to go along with this, to continue… there had to be an easier way, but hell, he was having _fun._

Sierra was staring at him again, caught completely off-guard by his reaction, though her tension was swift to return once his gaze settled upon her once more.

"Well, did you have anything in mind, then?" he asked, still smiling to put her at ease.

This, too, she didn't appear to be expecting, but before even thinking about it she had already blurted out her answer.

"Show me… who you are." She pointed to his helmet. "I don't trust anyone whose eyes I can't see."

"You probably don't trust anyone at all, from the looks of it," he replied, "It's a wonder you've gotten so far in this world alone."

"From what I can see, you're no better," she quipped, one hand dropping to settle on her hip. "That's why you hide your face – you don't want anyone to know about you. Makes me wonder how human you _really _are under there… or if you're like the other malformed monstrosities I've seen here."

"I'm nothing like those idiots." The very thought made him seethe.

"Then prove it, prototype," she said proudly, sure that she'd won, and sounding far too much like Forte, for that matter. This wasn't fun anymore – somehow she'd managed to get under his skin a _second_ time.

Blues was silent, considering. He could easily just stand there, or leave, or openly dismiss her challenge; none of which would improve the predicament at all. Finally,

"You really don't understand how important all of this is, do you?"

"Of course not," she admitted freely, her head tilting gently to one side. "Someone told me I was some kind of weak pawn in a game, but that's not the way I see it – I'm going to play, not _be _played. I have to get out of here and put my past to rest… so I can go on with my life. I know it's not going to be easy, but the first step is getting all the facts… you said so yourself: knowledge will give me power, and it seems you're my best link to it.

"No, I don't really get it right now, whoever you are, but I'm willing to learn, if it means all this will end, and I can get out of this game before it consumes me… like it already consumed my family."

The words were brave, from a strong girl who understood consequences, even if she didn't know the facts. The red 'bot let himself smile again, though grimly, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't hide it.

"So, you're willing to enter the game, then," he murmured. "The stakes are pretty high, you know. There's a lot at risk here, more than you will ever know."

"I figured that much."

"Even if it kills you, you'll see the thing through?" _Like it destroyed your father?_

Her eyes slid closed, obviously thinking the same thing. By no means an easy thing to decide, he was surprised by the fortitude, the finality of her nod. There was no going back for her, now, but really, had she ever been given the choice? Could this really have been prevented at all, or was it fated to be?

Blues didn't believe in fate, or destiny – not because they were human concepts, but because he decided long ago that he could – and would – deny the programming given to him prior to his activation. He would go beyond it, and become what he needed… no, _wanted_ to be.

And right now, he wanted to help Sierra find her answers… in hopes that he could find his own. Already his hands were resting at each side of his crimson helmet, though he scarcely remembered moving them there in the first place. A single smooth movement removed it from his head, and he shook out his dark brown hair, running a gloved hand through it just before coming to rest on his shades. A glance up told him that, yes, she was paying attention, and probably had already figured out his identity already.

Sierra's hand rose to cover her mouth in shock. No, she didn't need to see the sharp green eyes hiding behind the dark visor to recognize him. She still had no idea who he was, or what he intended, but…

He had been helping her all along.

o.o.o.o

He remained silent for a long time, letting her think, allowing everything to sink in as it should. Blues wished this moment had come much later, once he'd had the time to prepare for it, but this girl seemed to turn everything in his logical – and perhaps sometimes emotional – brain upside down.

"My name is Blues. I was originally created by Dr. Thomas Light," he began, his gaze dropping to the helmet in his hands. "But due to unfortunate events, I ended up under Dr. Wily's control and have been forced to work for him ever since."

"Grandfather created you…?"

"Yes. I was his prototype unit."

"But you work for Wily now… I thought you said you were following your own agenda."

"Yes," he nodded in agreement. "And in answer to your next question, Wily never had me completely under his thumb; for a while I was even free of him. Since then, I've been trying to find a way to leave here for good, but I need help."

"What kind of help?" she asked, still a bit stunned from her revelation. What in the world could she do to help this robot… Blues. That was his name. Blues. Like the music.

"Actually, it's the same reason Wily had you brought here," he replied, "I need your HR program."

"Huh?" the girl jerked, eyes widening. "B-but… how do you know about that? Jeez, the Hack Repair system is still in the experimental stages – I haven't even tested it on advanced AI yet!"

"That was the next stage of your project, wasn't it?" he pressed, sitting down against the wall and inviting her to do the same. "You were going to proceed with testing the day your school was attacked."

She did follow, but hesitantly, keeping some distance between them as she settled on the floor. "Yeah, you're right, I did finally get the go-ahead from my department, and a bit of funding, too. There were some test 'bots being shipped from the national factories and everything."

"Could you tell me more about the project itself?"

"Only if you tell me what it had to do with my father."

He smiled. "It's a deal."

Sierra couldn't help but mirror the gesture, feeling a little more at ease with Blues. "HR programs basically –" _Beepbeep. Beepbeep._

A red indicator light began flashing on Blues' wrist. _Damn,_ he thought, _not now!_ "I have to go," he muttered, replacing visor and helmet and getting to his feet. About to walk out the door, he suddenly stopped and extended his hand to Sierra expectantly. After a moment she sheepishly handed over his scarf, curling up more comfortably against the wall and saying nothing.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he assured, "And I'll bring some food and necessaries with me, too. Just don't go swinging wrenches around anymore, okay? Keep that arm in good shape."

A nod was all he needed before walking out and locking the door securely behind him. Not that he needed to, now, but if Wily came to check on her and the thing was open, it was game over.

* * *

_Author's Notes: And now we've reached the end of part two; a bit short, but the next part's going to be a doozy to write, and I wanted to make a decent transition. You could think of this as Chapter 12.5 if you like, but I'm keeping it 13 for the sake of my sanity. _

_As always, comments are welcome!_

_**Next Chapter: "Part Three: Lockout" **__Blues finds that keeping Forte on a short leash is no easy task, and struggles to keep him in the dark during a joint mission. _


	15. Chapter 14

**ROCKMAN:EMOTION**

_part three:lockout_

* * *

(14)

He was quite surprised to see that the prototype showed up in a timely manner, for once. Wily seemed somewhat pleased as well, but for a different reason altogether. Damn, but he hated the man, and wished with all of his being that he could wring his scrawny neck and be free and rid of him for good; he hated the old man's raving lunatic rants of world takeover just as much as he hated Rockman's little speeches about peace and friendship.

It was ridiculous, all of it. He embraced nothing but thoughts of his own complete liberty… but first came the destruction of everything that had held him back. Wily, Rockman, the prototype, the girl… Well, maybe not the last. He despised humans, to be sure, but if she was as useful as Blues made her out to be, then she could live simply for being the key to his future.

_Ah…_ his eyes lifted, glinting gold as they settled upon the enigmatic bioroid that had only just stepped though the laboratory doors. Blues, the first, the eldest… and the biggest fool, in his opinion. Forte fostered no beliefs of Blues' loyalties, as Wily did – he knew better than anyone what the prototype was truly capable of… but the real problem was finding the proof and exposing it for his benefit. He had to wait for a weakness to present itself.

Perhaps the girl would be the key to that, as well. He grinned at the thought of it, and pondered just how soon he could exploit her…

"You rang?" Blues quipped, and if he realized Forte's presence he gave no indication. Fine, he liked it better that way, with Wily's attention focused elsewhere.

"Ah yes. I expect you've subdued our guest, yes?"

Forte could see a bit of a smirk tugging on Blues' lips, particularly by the way he ducked his chin into the scarf. "Sure, you could say that. She's under control, if that's what you mean."

"Good! Very good, Blues. Now, I have another job for you."

"Now really Doc," he drawled, spreading his hands wide in a dramatic gesture. "Isn't my current assignment more than enough? Sierra's a bit of a handful, y'know…"

Forte's eyes narrowed slightly at that – yeah, the girl had a name, he'd probably heard it somewhere, but since when did the prototype show such interest in unnecessary details? He began to lose himself in his thoughts, then, something of a habit whenever he was here, constantly searching for something he desperately needed – the remote. Gazing around the lab carefully, he ran one finger down one of the violet stripes that dropped like wide tear streaks from both eyes to the bottom of his chin, a distinctly agitated twitch he hardly noticed.

He had to have searched this place a dozen times, finding new gadgets every time and rediscovering old ones, but never the remote itself. At times he suspected that Wily kept it on his person more often than not; it certainly wasn't beyond the paranoid old coot. Nudging a piece of crumbled hardware on the floor with a pitch black boot, he noticed the edge of some detailed designs peeking out from beneath a workbench. _What's this…?_

"Forte!"

His head snapped up, and he bared sharpened teeth at his creator, feeling some satisfaction in seeing the man flinch; it was so ironic, that the deadly cobra that had inspired so much of his design seemed to be the very thing that frightened Dr. Wily the most… aside from failure.

"What?!" he snapped back, withdrawing his hand from where it had begun to reach for the schematics. He'd get back to those later. Patience was by far his worst virtue… then again, did he _have_ any to begin with? Virtues, that is… he often felt more on the wild side, courting sin and vice. And that was just the way he liked it, too.

"Have you been listening at all?" Blues asked, cutting the old man off and giving him a piercing look… well, as 'piercing' as the fool could get, with his eyes covered the way they were. Damn, but he'd like to wipe that smirk off his face and tear those shades off that oh-so-smart head of his. That would show him who the boss was…

"Fffft. Some new missions, whatever. Just tell me where to go and what to shoot, and get it over with, will ya? I'm getting ansy just standing around all the time."

"Just come on, Forte, I'll fill you in on the way there." Typing something onto the keypad at his wrist, Forte's own monitor beeped, flashing grid coordinates at him. With a glare at both of them, Forte teleported out of the castle to wait.

o.o.o.o

"What were you doing in there? Do you want to get deactivated?" Blues demanded, striding towards him. They'd arrived back at the small forested area at the edge of the park – the same place the girl had been captured. Forte idly wondered why they were back here, and not somewhere closer to the target… whatever it was.

"None of your business, prototype," he snapped back, crossing his arms defiantly. "Besides, shouldn't I be asking _you_ that?"

"What are you going on about? I just saved your metallic rear in there."

"Yeah, right. I wouldn't call distracting the old idiot any sort of saving."

A long silence, and Blues finally shook his head slowly. "Look, you going on this mission or not?"

"What is it, already? I've said I'm going!" To further prove his point, he slammed his fist into the trunk of an unsuspecting tree, sending a sickening _crunch_ resounding through an otherwise peaceful area. He hated peaceful. Things were better with loud sounds… like explosions, the crackling of fire… The silence made his ears ring, and he growled to clear them momentarily.

Blues didn't flinch, and Forte hated him for it. "Look, apparently, the old man has been taking some short trips… somewhere. I don't know where, and neither does Wily."

"So? What about the blue brat?"

"Usually he stays to watch the lab, but this time I think he went with Dr. Light. One of us is supposed to dig up some info at the lab while they're gone, while the other tries to track them down and gather some recon."

"Recon? You mean we can't engage?"

"No," he shook his head again. "Not this time. Especially if this has something to do with the strange power-ups I've been hearing about. If you destroy it, Light might not be able to rebuild it at all. We have to be able to steal the whole thing in completion or close to it, _before_ Rockman can get it himself."

Forte grunted, acknowledging the logic, but it still made him twitch. "So, what, am I going to the lab while you get to have all the fun playing spy?"

"Well, yes, that was the general idea. Wily doesn't want you to get too excited and destroy something we might need."

It made sense, but then again it didn't. Something really smelled, but Forte really couldn't put his finger on what. Aggravated that he was reduced to being an errand boy again, lifted his burning golden gaze to the red bioroid again. "Fine, prototype, I'll do this, but what do I get in return? You're taking away some time I could be using destroying that little runt and his creator… so I hope you've got something planned. Who's to say that I won't follow you when I'm done?"

"Upgrades, my dear Cobra. Think about it – Wily's not stupid enough to use anything on his _new_ model without testing them first – and who better to experiment with than his best, most powerful _current_ model?"

"Me." _Growl. _The thought of using new weaponry on Rockman made a delightful shiver run down his spine… the self-righteous little brat would have _no_ chance…

"Exactly."

"I'm in, then," he answered eagerly, baring his teeth in a wide grin. "What do I have to get?"

* * *

_Author's Notes: So, as I'm sure you've noticed, Part 3 will focus more on Forte. He's a huge player in the 'chess game', and although I'm finding him a lot harder to write than I expected, it's been very interesting to develop his character. _

_Again, this chapter's short, which is why I've posted it a bit early. Hopefully I'll get the next one done on time, and with a bit more to read for you!_

_**Next Chapter: "Side Mission" **__Forte follows a hunch that leads him closer to the truth about Blues. How will he twist the situation to make sure he comes out on top? _


End file.
